


Primal Urges

by mickeym



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Timeline, Amnesia, Anal Sex, First Time, M/M, Marking, Pre-Series, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-03-01
Updated: 1998-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-08 14:12:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 44,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeym/pseuds/mickeym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Ellison is the sole survivor of his unit, fulfilling his mission by holding the Chopec Pass against insurgents. He's not expecting to meet his soul-mate in the form of a young anthropology student, lost in the Peruvian jungles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Primal Urges

**Author's Note:**

> In the television show, Jim meets Blair for the first time at the hospital, after his senses start flaking out on him. What if he'd met Blair before, but didn't remember?

 

Prologue

It was always the same dream, although for a long time he'd been too young to remember much of it, much less understand it.  He was older now, and although the meaning was still unclear, he at least recognized the dream itself.

He didn't have it often.  Mostly during stressful periods in his life, maybe when he was yearning for someone to really care for him or care about him; perhaps for someone to *take* care of him.  This was one of those periods, he supposed, since everything was new, different, a little scary.

In the dream--his dream--there were always four players.  Two panthers, a jaguar and a hawk.  The hawk was injured, although the dream never showed how that had happened, simply that it was.  He sensed instinctively that he was the hawk.  There was something about that that uplifted him, seemed to fit him.  He didn't know who the panthers or the jaguar were, but felt on some instinctual level that one day that would be revealed to him.

The hawk was on the ground, resting, healing.  It looked up when a jaguar entered the clearing it was resting in, disturbed by the noise and the scent.  The large cat moved around, looking at the hawk, flicking its tail as if displeased.  It paced, eventually cornering the much smaller, defenseless bird.  The hawk had prepared to give up and not fight; death would come regardless and this way would be less painful.  A loud scream echoed through the clearing and another large cat, bigger even than the jaguar and far darker and sleeker, entered.  A panther.  He leapt upon the back of the jaguar, biting and clawing, driving the other cat back, leaving a bloodied carcass at the edge of the clearing.  When the jaguar was dead the panther paced around restlessly, as if waiting for someone, or something.  It looked up, then loped away with a self-satisfied flash of tail when another, much larger, panther entered the clearing.

The hawk looked up at this new intruder, sensing gentleness behind the fierceness he saw on the surface, and was surprised when the cat looked back at him with gentle, sky-colored eyes.

*******************************

Peruvian Jungles, March 1988

The sun was coming up over the mountains, casting a pinkish-golden hue on the lush foliage.  Inside the helicopter were eight men--men who'd fought in life and death situations together. They were quiet now; the kind of quiet that descended on them before all intense missions.

No one knew better than Captain James Ellison how intense this mission was going to be; he'd briefed his men, but the burden of all knowledge was his alone.  They were to be cut off from radio contact for the duration of their mission, which was at this point an unknown.  When he'd dared to question his superiors about this--how could you have an unknown factor like the length of a mission and not have radio contact?--he was coldly informed that *they* would break radio silence when it was deemed necessary, and not before.

He shifted his position and all eyes were on him instantly.  Ellison permitted himself a small smile--these were good men.  Not for the first time he thanked whomever had smiled upon him in allowing him to pick his own team.  Not all Ops commanders got so lucky.  He opened his mouth to address them, and the world shifted as the helicopter inexplicably dipped toward the ground, rotors ceasing their motion.

The local natives told him later that at first they had feared that the Sun Gods had become angry.  They'd heard a loud noise, ten times louder than a clap of thunder, then seen the flames moving outward…

****************************

Ellison rolled over with a groan, the sounds around him muted from the roar of the explosion still ringing in his ears.  He shook his head.  Explosion?  What was he thinking?  No, wait... He froze.  Oh, god...his team!

Ignoring his screaming muscles and the flare of pain from burnt skin, Ellison pushed himself to his feet with a grunt and began stumbling through the brush and jungle undergrowth, looking for survivors.

An untold number of hours later he was finished.  His own body, injured and fatigued, began to give out, and he sat down heavily, feeling the guilt of those who survive fatal disasters beginning to gnaw at him.  He'd found all seven of his men--three of whom he'd only been able to identify through dog-tags, and only two who were still alive.  Lieutenant Benjamin Pearson and Sergeant First Class Elson "Smitty" Smith were both alive, but critically injured.  Smitty was unconscious and remained that way in spite of all of Jim's attempts to revive him.

Smitty wouldn't last out the night.  Jim buried his face in his hands and groaned silently.  He'd lost men before, but never like this; never totally helpless to do anything.  In the past, he'd been *doing* something; even if it was ineffectual in the end, he'd be acting to preserve those lives.  He had no control over this.  He looked at Smitty with tears glittering unshed in his eyes.  He'd known this man for years.  He'd been close to the family, had eaten dinner at his house, spent holidays there.  They had, in spite of the disparity in their ranks, been good friends.  It hurt to see him like this, and Jim had to reach deep within himself and draw heavily on his reservoir of inner strength to look at him laying there.

//An officer doesn't get emotionally involved, especially in Covert Ops.  He can't afford to.//  He could hear the voice repeating the words over and over again.  It wasn't official doctrine, but damn close.  Smitty had been one of his drill instructors, and he'd heard those words almost daily when he went through the extended training.  When he graduated and got his commission, Jim returned to the drill camp and 'stole' the sergeant away, putting him in charge of maintaining his team's efficiency.  He hadn't been let down.  But somewhere along the line, he'd become emotionally involved.  Smitty had ceased to be 'just a soldier', and had become a friend.

Jim stared down at Smitty, eyes hot and burning from the smoke of the fire and unshed tears.  He hoped the older man would gain consciousness so they could say goodbye, but the medic he'd trained to be knew the odds were slim.

Then there was Pearson.  Jim flicked his gaze over to the other man.  Pearson *might* make it, if he got proper medical care--meaning a hospital--immediately, but the odds decreased with each minute that passed.  Pearson.  Oh, god.  Another wave of guilt flooded over him.  The young lieutenant shouldn't have been on this mission; however, they'd had a vacancy at the last minute when one of his team members became ill and couldn't make the trip.  Benny Pearson had been chosen--over Jim's vehement requests otherwise--to do the mission.  Now he lay there, most likely dying...and Jim was going to have to live with another set of consequences from breaking the 'don't get emotionally involved rule' for the rest of his life.

"Cap..."  a breathless voice gasped, and Jim swiveled his head around to see Pearson watching him, a tender look in his eyes. "Not...your...fault...Jim."  The younger man nearly gasped the words, trying to speak around the pressure flooding his chest cavity.

"Pearson.  Benny.  Take it easy, okay?"  Jim shifted closer to his second-in-command, and felt his wrist for the pulse.  It was weak and thready, and Pearson's breathing was shallow and labored.  Jim had found him laying in a small, but growing, pool of blood, the end of a rib poking through skin.  He figured the other jagged end had pierced the lung, judging from the blood being coughed up, and the painful, labored breathing noises he heard when he leant in and listened.

"Wha...happened?"

Jim's jaw clenched involuntarily.  He'd like the answer to that question himself.  Since all the communications equipment had been destroyed in the crash and subsequent explosion, he had no way of finding out.  Never mind the order of silence...

"I dunno, Benny.  The chopper crashed.  Most of the team was thrown out...but the explosion still caught a lot of them.  You, Smitty and I are the only survivors...and..."  Jim stopped in horror as he realized what he'd almost said.

"Jim..."  The gasps were gurgly now, and Jim envisioned Benny Pearson drowning in his own blood, lungs collapsing under the ever-increasing pressure from oxygen flooding his chest cavity.  He shook his head to dispel the image.  A cold hand reached toward him; brushed his thigh, lingering for a moment, then moved on to grasp Jim's hand.  Jim clenched it in his own, trying to impart some of his warmth, his strength.

"Yeah, Benny?"

"...shoulda...told you..."  Benny coughed weakly, and panted, trying to draw air into his lungs.

"Told me what, Benny?"  Jim tightened his grip on the cold hand. He knew.  He *knew* what Benny was going to tell him, and he wasn't sure he could handle hearing it.

"...love...you."  The second word ended on a breathy sigh.  "...shoulda told...you...before... Stupid, huh?...was...afraid..."

Jim felt the tears gathering in his eyes again, and reached down with his free hand to gently stroke Benny's face.  "Not stupid, Ben."  His voice shook slightly, and he tried to find that emotional distance--detachment--he needed, and failed.

"...know you...don't...feel...that way...for...me,"  Benny's efforts to draw air were becoming almost desperate now, and Jim had to look away for a moment before resuming the conversation.

"I--"  He stopped.  He did love him, but could he say it?  He'd never said it before, and wasn't sure, even now, if he could.

Benny coughed once more, wincing from the pain.  "...thought you...should know...before..."

Jim's eyes burned.  "You listen to me, Pearson.  You're not gonna say 'I love you', then die on me!  Not on my watch, soldier."  He could hear the tightness in his voice, the barely controlled emotions.

Benny wheezed and coughed again, then shook his head slightly.  "C'mon...sir...We...both know..."  he paused, panting for air, skin beginning to take on a bluish hue. "Know...I'm dyin'..."

Jim couldn't answer, since he knew as well as Benny did.  Better, actually, thanks to his days as a medic when he first joined the service.  Blood bubbled out of the corner of the other man's mouth, and the bright red contrasted garishly with the muted green of the camos he wore.  Jim swore softly, then bent and pressed his mouth to Benny's, a final kiss of farewell.  He pulled back and saw Benny's lips moving, and leant forward, straining to hear.

"...Jim..."

Benny gave a gurgly little sigh and his body relaxed then, as the freedom of death released the hold pain had had on him.

Jim tightened his hold on Benny's hand almost convulsively, as if by sheer strength of will he could keep the younger man with him. A low, primal growl rang in his ears, and he realized it was coming from him.

He'd never said it.  Now he'd never get the chance.

*******************************

Rainier University, Cascade,  Washington, March 1988

"Whadaya mean, 'not listed'?  Man, I cleared all that with the Prof last month.  You can*not* be serious!"  The young man paced the cramped space of the office impatiently, hair swinging in time with his strides.

"Look, Blair."  The secretary leaned forward in sympathy.  "I'm sure you followed all the procedural steps.  But hon, something goofed.  You're not listed in the database."

"Ms. Standish...help me out, please?  I gotta go on that expedition.  Please?  Help me out here--find the info..."  He turned large blue eyes on her, and Dorothy Standish sighed.  Of all the kids to have been accidentally bumped from this project, Blair was the one who least deserved this trip through academic-paper hell.

"All right, Blair.  I'll see what I can do.  But!"  She held up on finger, forestalling any commentary on his part, "You have to give me a day or so, and promise to leave me alone if I can't fix it."

"I promise,"  he vowed solemnly as he leaned to give her a hug.  She smiled as she watched him leave the room, remembering the child who'd come in where the man was leaving.  Had it been two years already?  Blair Sandburg had done a lot of growing up in those two years.

Blair headed down the halls of the Anthropology Department of Rainier University.  If anyone could find out what had happened to his acceptance form for the trip to Peru, Dorothy Standish could.  He sighed, and smiled at the two girls who were moving past him.  They smiled back and slowed down, but Blair was in a hurry today--he was meeting with Professor Andano about the Peruvian study, and he didn't want to be late.

//I have to go on that trip.  I have to.//  He didn't even question why it seemed so important.  His mother had raised him to believe and trust in his 'gut' feelings...and his gut feeling was that his destiny was waiting for him in those tropical jungles. 

Three years here at the University.  Well...this would *be* his third year.  He'd been lying about his age for so long now that it seemed second nature anymore; although he was 18 now he was still *small*--both in height, and stature.  A friend of his was encouraging him to work out with weights somewhat to offset that, and he'd seen a little in the way of results so far.  Blair knew he wasn't tiny--he was simply on the short end of average height for a man--but he was still small enough that people often mistook him for younger than he was. //Oh well...maybe someday I'll be glad to look younger than I am.'  He shook his head, pushing the long tresses back from his face.  That was the other thing, and he refused to cut his hair, laughing in the face of anyone who pushed it.  This was the longest it had been since starting college--it was past his shoulder blades now.  Maybe he'd trim it; it was on the verge of being *too* long. 

He stopped in front of Dr. Andano's office and pulled his glasses out.  Vanity took them off; necessity kept putting them back on.  He knocked on the door, and at the offered entrance squared his shoulders, and prepared to make a date with destiny.

*******************************

Chopec Pass, Peru, March 1988

Jim Ellison buried both of his subordinates--a lover, and a friend--several hours past sunset, when the moon was full up.

After Benny died he'd cried for what seemed like forever, although he knew that wasn't so, then slept for a while, his sleep marred by the knowledge that he'd lost one person very dear to him...and would soon lose another.

Benny he at least got to say goodbye to.  Smitty died without ever gaining consciousness.

Jim saved their dog-tags, placing them around his neck for safe-keeping.  He saw to their final resting places, then headed for what remained of the wreckage of the chopper in order to scavenge as many supplies as possible.

A sick sense of grief and guilt assailed him as he rummaged around in the wreckage.  What right did he have to survive?  A Commander was supposed to go down with the ship, or at least with his men.  He had no right to still be walking around on this earth.  Jim fell to his knees, choking with his guilt, and was still there, almost in supplication, when the heavens opened and rain poured forth.

****************************

He got sick almost immediately.  Wounded himself, then untended while he cared for his injured and buried the dead, his burns and cuts festered.  Added to that was the survivor guilt he was carrying around, and a healthy dose of elements, and his system couldn't fight any longer.

When he was conscious he could keep the dreams at bay; when he was out of his mind with fever, and delirious,  he saw ghosts that talked to him, and apparitions that made no sense.

A small, brown man appeared in some of those fever dreams, his face painted a brilliant red, a pleasant smile stretching his mouth.  Another small person--a woman? She was there on occasion, chanting strange words and pushing foul-smelling liquids down his throat.  Images blurred and raced through his brain: Benny dying in his arms, the ghost coming back to kill him in his sleep.  His father shooting down his youthful attempts to please the older man, forever telling him he wouldn't be good enough.  A large black cat--a panther?--stalking through the darkness, watching him with strangely blue eyes.  Another blue-eyed vision…a young man who smiled at him, laughed with him, loved him.  Someone he knew? Had known? Would know? He tried to picture, when he was coherent, that face in his mind, but it blurred and jumped out of reach.

He could hear faint explosions echo through his body; strange sounds, like gurgling, churning, flowing.  Water? Blood? Something that was both, and neither?  The dreams melded into one another, until he could no longer reason nor distinguish between them, reality versus delirium.  His eyelids were translucent now, light seeping through regardless…or was that just the burning heat from his fever?  His skin burned with touch, but wasn't burnt. Or was it? He couldn't remember now.  Explosions again…there'd been one.  What was it? Why'd it happen?  Why wasn't he dead? Or was he? Dead?! DEADEADEADEADEADEADEADEAD……

"Nooooooooo!"

The scream frightened several flocks of birds, nesting in the various limbs of the nearby trees, out of roost and into the sky.

He woke a day later, clear-headed, bright-eyed, to see a small, brown man crouched over him, his face painted red.  The man smiled at him, pointed to himself and said "Incacha."

*****************************

He set up his base of operations a mile or so to the north of the crash site.  He'd have been more comfortable being nearer to the site, in case of a rescue attempt; however, there were too many ghosts there.  He'd never have an easy night's rest with Benny laying dead near there, no matter he'd said it wasn't Jim's fault.

It was long, hard work, but it was the kind he'd been trained to do.  He cleared a perimeter of trees, then used those to build a crude hut for himself; mostly for shelter from the rain.  When the weather was clear he would often sleep outside under the stars; he felt less closed in that way.

The wreckage hadn't yielded much of use; a few emergency supplies, some blankets and such--mostly whatever was in the bags that had been thrown far enough from the chopper to not be affected by the explosion.  It felt gruesome and a little surreal to be going through the personal effects of his men, scant though they were, but survival often necessitated strange things.  And this was definitely a survival situation.

For the most part, the natives were reserved.  Most distrusted him simply because he was an outsider with skin that was much lighter than theirs.  It took time for them to trust him enough to feel comfortable with his being near their village.  He never went to the village--that would have made them too nervous.  But at least he could be near it now, without undue unrest.

With time he was able to get the warriors trained and active in the counter-insurgence mission he was supposed to be filling.  His guide and friend through the muck that consisted of negotiating with the warriors was Incacha, the man who'd saved him.  The shaman of the Chopec tribe.

As the months passed though, and he had not much contact with other human beings, he began noticing strange things about himself:  He could hear things so much more clearly.  And his eyesight!  Why, he figured he could see for a mile...and tried to test it; however, with nothing as a baseline, the test was fairly useless.  His sense of smell seemed heightened somehow, too, although that only bothered him if he were near a particularly strong-smelling item.  The other changes were more useful in warning him about nearby predators and /or people that shouldn't be here.

Although mildly alarming the changes weren't unduly stressful; they allowed him to do his job better, and the job was what he lived for now.

He continued his mission:  train the locals as best as able to help in surveillance and perimeter guard.  They wouldn't keep out everyone, but the natives were fairly savvy individuals for all that they were quite primitive.  Jim found himself adopting some of their weapons and habits, and in time he became nearly indistinguishable from other parts of the jungle, including the predators.

***************************

He came awake gasping, body arching against the hand that was stroking himself, Benny's name on his lips.  When the spasms of orgasm had died away, Jim rolled over on his mat of grasses and buried his face in the blanket, a few tears sliding from his eyes before he managed to squelch them. During the day he could bury his feelings:  the hurt, grief, guilt over Benny's death--over all their deaths.  But at night those feelings would come back to him tenfold, wrapping him into a tight, unwanted embrace.

Ellison rose and pulled his boots on.  He slept fully clothed but for his boots, always.  He could run barefoot if necessary, but in the jungle to be totally naked was to be vulnerable.  And he couldn't afford to be vulnerable.  Although it was still dark out he was going to walk a perimeter.  He didn't need light to see anyway; any more he saw just as well in the dark.

He missed company.  Although he'd never been a truly gregarious person by nature it would have been nice to have someone else to talk to...share thoughts with...make love with.  He'd caught a couple of the local girls eyeing him once or twice, but had never approached them.  It was absolutely against protocol, to get involved with the locals; aside from that he was still too torn over his emotional involvement with Benny.  There was too much guilt unresolved, and there was no way in hell he was going to get involved with anyone else that had anything to do with this mission, however remotely.

It'd been, as near as he could figure, about six months since the chopper crashed.  That would put the date somewhere around September 1988.  What was going on in the world?  He wondered when he would be contacted.  How long could one person continue to hold perimeter territory by himself?  Yeah, he had the natives, but it wasn't the same.  They were brash, brave men, but he kept the dirty work to himself.  Like the guy last week who'd actually had contraband on him.  When he'd resisted, Jim had taken particular delight in snapping the guy's neck like a twig.  He could still feel the *snap* the bones had made as he'd twisted; could still feel the strange thrill that had coursed through him at the sound.

Oh, shit.  What was happening here?  Was he turning into some sort of savage beast?  Jim found himself entertaining thoughts along the lines of 'if I ever get out of here I think I'm finished with the Army...'.

******************************

Rainier University, Cascade, Sept. 1988

Blair pushed his way through the jostling crowds of students.  It was the first week of classes, and things were always out of control for that first week. //I don't care...I don't care...I'm a senior...// Not only was he a senior and in the last year of his undergrad studies, *Thank you very much!*, but everything was all set for the Peru trip next May.  He had only to get his passport updated, and the necessary shots beforehand...and he was free and clear.

His brain itched sometimes when he tried to analyze why this trip to a place he'd never been before was *so* important to him.  Naomi had teased him about it when she'd been by to visit over the summer.  But underneath the teasing he knew she was concerned for him:  her Blair was obsessive by nature, and compulsive, but this was obsessive even for him.  He'd gotten defensive the one time she brought it up, and it was never mentioned again.

Blair shrugged to himself.  He found a bench in a nice clear grassy area and settled in to do some studying, and reviewing of some text and articles he'd come across in the library.  He opened his backpack and drew out a battered and worn book, and opened it reverently.  Inside the book were notes and a dissertation on something titled 'Sentinel abilities', or heightened sensory awareness.

He came up for air several hours later, amazed to find he'd read the entire journal.  There were notes he'd made to himself stuck in pages throughout the book--this appeared to be a topic he wanted to pursue further, if possible.  Blair started his own journal, wishing not for the first time, that portable computers existed.  He labeled it 'Sentinel Studies', and felt his brain itch again.

Another hour of scribbling notes, and he glanced at his watch.  Almost four now.  He was supposed to meet with Julie and David in two hours to go over the notes from lecture yesterday.  Blair stretched and slid off the bench onto the grass, stretching his body out.  The warm sun above him, and warm grass under him felt good.  He closed his eyes, preparing to take a short nap.  A shadow fell over him, cutting off the source of pleasant warmth. Blair opened his eyes to see Curtis standing over him.  He smiled, a slow welcoming smile.

"Hey, man.  Sit down."  He patted the grass next to him and the lanky man dropped down.

"Hey, Blair.  Kinda early in the day to be sleeping, isn't it?"  Curtis stretched out on his side next to Blair and smiled at his friend.

"Wasn't sleepin', man.  Just like, you know, dozing."

"Dozing, sleeping, whatever.  Still early."  Curtis rolled onto his stomach and fixed his gaze on some point in the distance.  "Wanna come over this evening?"  he asked softly.

"Curtis..."

"Just to watch TV or something, Blair.  Talk.  We don't have to do anything else."

"But you want to, don't you?"

Curtis sighed.  "I don't get you, Blair.  You act like you want to have sex with me...but then you pull away.  What's up with you?"  Blair was silent for so long that Curtis turned his head to look at him.  "Well?"

"I don't know,"  Blair said finally.  "I *want* to...but something's holding me back.  It's not that I'm afraid or anything...I like everything else we've done...but something about taking that final step..."

"'Cause that way you can tell yourself up to that point you're not gay...this is just two guys having fun, right?  Man, I thought you were better than that."  There was a bitter quality to Curtis' voice, and Blair rolled on his side to face him.

"No, man, that's not it.  I don't subscribe to labels.  You should know that by now.  I'm not het, gay or bi.  I'm just *me*.  Whatever that means.  If it means I want to date men and women, that's what it is then.  And ditto for sleeping with them."

  

  1. "How about with a woman?"
  



"A couple of times."

Another sigh.  "Man, I forget how young you are.  19?  20?  Which is it, Sandburg?"

Blair's turn to sigh.  "Eighteen."

Curtis flopped on his back.  "Jesus, I'm robbing the fucking cradle.  Blair, you've either got to age about six years overnight, or stop acting so *old*.  You're sending out mixed signals."  He sighed and smiled then as he sat up.  "Come on over tonight--we'll watch TV, eat some junk food and sit and cuddle.  And talk about the rest of this in a more private setting, okay?"

"Sure, Curtis.  About eight?  I'm meeting a couple of people at six for study group."

"Eight's fine, Blair.  See ya then."

"Later, man."  Blair flopped back on the grass, pondering the questions raised here.

******************************

It was far easier, he decided later, to ponder those questions sitting by yourself in the grass, than while wrapped in the warm arms of a lover.  All thoughts about that flew out of his head then as Curtis swirled his tongue around the inside of Blair's ear, then sucked on the earlobe.  He groaned and gave over to the sensations.

He gave himself over completely to those sensations then, and allowed Curtis to make love completely to him.  It was just as nice as Curtis had told him it would be, but he couldn't help feeling that it should be better, like there was something missing...

********************************

Chopec Pass, Peru, March 1989

Jim stood at attention over the markers for his men's graves.  Today marked a year--as best he could measure, without a calendar--that they were dead.  He listened to the music in his head, Taps played on a lone bugle.  His men deserved more than a lone soldier standing over them, hearing imaginary music.  It was becoming more clear however, that they were unlikely to receive more than that.

A year.  In all likelihood the crash had been spotted, and assumed no survivors.  He'd been given up for dead.  They all had.  He shook his head impatiently. That wasn't how the Army acted; he had to assume that when they deemed his mission completed they'd come for him. He had to hold on to that hope.

It wasn't quite as painful any longer, to remember his men, or Benny and Smitty.  There was still guilt of course--just for the fact that he was alive--but the pain of surviving alone had dwindled somewhat.  He missed Benny, but knew now that although he'd loved Benny, he hadn't  been *in* love with Benny.  Of course, that thought always brought a fresh wave of guilt along with it, as though he were desecrating something when he thought like that.  It was true though--he'd cared deeply for his lover, but it wasn't an all-abiding love.  He wondered if there was such a thing, and his mind flashed briefly on the fever-dream he'd had of a blue-eyed young man loving him.

He could see some of the natives in the hillside around him, watching him.  Probably wondering what he was doing.  These people, although they retained reverence for their dead, had nothing to do with them once they were so.  Dead was dead, there was no visiting graves and crying over bodies and spirits gone.  They probably thought he was insane.  There were times lately when he'd wondered the same.

Mourning complete Jim shouldered his rifle and blow darts, and set off for his patrol.  Eventually he'd be discovered; whether on purpose or by accident remained to be seen.  When that happened though, he wanted to be able to reassure his CO that he'd acted in the fullest capacity possible to retain the integrity of his original mission.

*******************************

Cascade, Washington, April 1989

"Come on, Blair…you know you don't want to do this."

Sandburg sighed and shook his head.  "No, man.  YOU don’t want me to do this.  I've been planning this trip for a long time."  The young man watched his companion, wondering when Curtis had gotten so possessive.  It wasn't like they'd sworn a commitment to each other.  Sure, they'd dated exclusively for nearly eight months now…and the sex had been good…but if Curtis thought he was giving up his dream of going to Peru, well, he needed to rethink things a bit.

"What's the draw down there, anyway?"  The older man countered.

"I don't know, Curt." Blair shrugged.  "I've just known for a long time that I needed to go to Peru.  Now I'm going.  In a little over a month.  And I need you to be cool about the whole thing."  The student got off the bed and began gathering his clothing, graceful and at ease with his nudity.

"How long are you going for?"

"Ten weeks.  Not a long time, man.  I'll be back before the summer is over.  Then we can talk about the other stuff."

The 'other stuff' was Blair moving in with Curtis; something the older student had been pushing for several weeks now, and that Blair was balking at.

"I really don't like the idea of you going," Curtis said finally, watching his younger lover.

"And I really don't care," Blair sent back.  "I like you, Curt.  I like what we've been doing.  It's been fun…a lot of fun.  But man, you *don’t* own me…and if you can't get past that, we have nothing more to say to each other!"

Curtis' eyes narrowed.  "I wish you didn't feel that way."

"Yeah, and I wish you'd stop acting like I'm some damn puppy dog to have and show off.  I'm not a possession, Curt.  I'm a human being…and I thought I was your friend."

"We're more than friends, though, aren't we?"

Blair sighed.  "What do you want from me?" he asked, as gently as he could manage.

"I want you."

"I'm here."

"No, I mean I want *you*."

"Curt…I'm not in love with you, man.  I like you…I love you as a friend…but I'm not going to fall in love with you.  You and I are too different for anything to work between us."

"Oh and you're so experienced to know this."  The older man sneered at him, and Blair felt something inside him snap.

"No, I'm not necessarily the most experienced guy here, but I know what and how I feel…and baby, you're not it."  Sandburg pulled his shirt on and shoved his feet into battered sneakers.  "Don't bother calling me, man.  I'll be gone in a few weeks and out of the country for the summer."

Curtis sat up, the sheet falling off his nude body.  "Blair--don’t do this.  Don't leave angry like this."

The younger man shoved his hand back through long, tangled curls.  //Gotta get a haircut pretty soon.//  "I wasn't going to, man.  You're the one who turned snotty on me.  Let's just leave it alone and maybe we can still be friends."

"Friends."

"Yeah--y'know, friends? Like we used to be, before we went to bed?"

Curtis nodded unhappily.  "Sure. Friends."

Blair watched him closely for a minute, then shrugged a little.  He didn't know what else to do or say, so he finished gathering his stuff together, then headed for the door.  He paused there, searching for something that might make the situation salvageable.  The look on Curtis' face disabused him of that.

"'Bye, Curt," he said softly, instead, his eyes solemn.  "Take care, man."

"Yeah, you too, Blair-boy."  The older man turned away from him.  Blair shook his head and left the apartment.

*******************************

Peruvian Jungles, May 1989

Ellison sniffed the air again, frowning.  The warm season had come and gone and now the wet season was here.  But something wasn't right.  Something was very much out of place, and he was damned if he could figure out what it was.

The Chopec Pass was now one of the best guarded against insurgents in the whole Peruvian jungle.  Jim and his warriors had seen to that.  He'd spent a lot of time lately in the village, consulting with the Chieftain and with Incacha.  Although many of the villagers were still wary of him, his blue eyes and pale skin made him a curious thing and a lot of them now spoke to him casually when he ventured into the village, like now.  He was always polite, deferential to the elders of the tribe, but he never sought out anyone, save the shaman and chieftain, and Kandiki.

Kandiki was a wise old woman with snapping black eyes who was the tribe's medicine woman.  She was sitting just outside, still in the shade, and motioned him over to her hut.

**The air is strange today.**  Her eyes were concerned as she looked at him.

**Yes.  Something is out of place and I can't figure out what it is.**  His grasp of the language had grown considerably, but he still felt he struggled to express himself.

**When you are to know, you will, Enqueri.  Some things are not to be rushed.**

**You know something, mother?**

Her eyes snapped at him, the skin around them crinkling merrily.  **You're looking for something you didn't know you needed.  You will find it soon.**

  

  1. //A nice cryptic message.//   **What is that thing?** 
  



She shrugged.  **You'll have to wait and see.**

**I trust your instincts, mother.**

**You should trust your own, Enqueri.**

He nodded his head at her and wondered what the hell she was talking about.

******************************

His chat with Incacha later that morning wasn't much clearer.  The shaman alluded to something strange, but wonderful, coming to find him.

"Your abilities as a guardian will lead you to it, and away from it at the same time.  They will provide the backbone and at the same time drive you from that which you seek."

He chatted for a little longer with this curious man who'd helped him focus some of his strange sensory abilities, then left to make his way back to his hut and the perimeters he still needed to walk.  His hand rubbed absently at the small black tattoo-like mark he now wore just above his left nipple; the mark of a Chopec warrior, with a special symbol for tribal guardian.  Incacha had marked him a month ago, shortly after the one year anniversary of the crash.  He could still feel slight raised edges of it, proof that it hadn't healed totally.  A mark that looked like a strangely-shaped "X", symbolizing two crossed spears, with a circle surrounding it, symbolizing the guardianship.

He sniffed the air again, frowning.  Was it a real scent, or something his lately over-active imagination was providing for him? No, Kandiki and Incacha both claimed to smell it too…or had they? Kandiki had merely said the air was strange; that could mean any number of things.  And when he'd mentioned her strange message to Incacha, the other man had merely smiled and looked at him like he was staring into his soul.

//Too much fucking hocus-pocus,// Ellison grumbled to himself.  //Get your mind back on your job, soldier, not on the strange predictions of a medicine woman in a primitive jungle tribe.//  He shouldered his weapons and headed off into the jungle, eyes moving constantly, ears prickling restlessly.

********************************

Near the Chopec Pass, Peru, May, 1989

Blair wandered along in the growing darkness. He'd never have admitted it to anyone, but he was scared. Lost in the middle of the Peruvian jungle, with night closing in. How could he have been so stupid?  All the professors and guides had asked was stay close to the camp until they were more acclimated; don't wander off even after.

Well, shit.  A couple of days didn't really count for getting acclimated.  And he'd wandered about as far as he could go.  Could things possibly get any worse than this?

His questions were answered by a loud hiss. He froze. //I didn't hear that,// he thought desperately. Eyes searching the twilight-shrouded jungle around him for the source of the sound. He hoped to locate whatever it was that was hissing, so that he could move away from it... quickly.

He turned to head back in the direction he'd come, and froze.  Hanging down from an overhead branch, less two feet away, was the biggest damned snake he'd ever seen. He gulped as the snake swung slowly toward him, forked tongue flicking the air. //Don't move,// he thought, trying to stay calm. //Just keep still until it goes away.//

The snake wasn't cooperating. The big, pointed head came closer, so close that he could feel the forked tongue against his cheek. He tried to slow his breathing, tried to keep perfectly still. Anything to make the big creature lose interest in him. For a moment, it seemed to work. The snake gave his face one final lick, then began to move away. The young man sighed in relief and took a step backwards... right into the rest of the snake's body. He barely had time to whirl around in surprise as the huge coils, as big around as his thigh, suddenly slithered around him, pinning his arms at his sides. The pressure that followed was enough to squeeze his screams out of his body.

"NO!" he wailed, feeling his ribs giving under the snake's muscle power. Knowing the others were too far away to hear him, he nonetheless cried out, shouting as loudly as he could,  "Oh God, somebody help me!"

As he emptied his lungs with the frantic cry for help, he felt the snake tighten further. Now he couldn't draw in enough air for even a whisper, and he closed his eyes in despair. //I'm going to die I'm going to die and be eaten by a snake and nobody will ever know what happened to me because I was too stupid to tell anyone where I was going and Mom oh Mom I'm so sorry I love you and oh God whichever one is listening please I promise to be good forever if you just make the PAIN STOP!// His head lolled back as the snake continued to crush him, slowly slipping to the ground to wrap more coils about him.

Ellison was out, doing a twilight perimeter sweep, checking for predators, intruders, hunting down the enemy. He was still a little rattled from his conversations with the tribal members earlier, and had been walking the trails since.  He was tired, but alert, and his senses were just informing him that all was quiet on the Ellison front, when he heard it; a scream. A man's scream of pain mixed with terror. Jim's head shot up and his eyes narrowed in concentration as he used his powerful ears to track down the direction of the sound. It was close. He had just taken a step toward the sound when he heard a loud hiss, followed by another gut-wrenching cry and the muted sound of bones slowly compressing. Ellison grimaced and increased his pace. Sounded like whoever it was was about to become Anaconda Chow.

//Strange,// Jim thought as he hurried through the jungle. It was rare for the natives to be taken by one of the big snakes. They all knew how to steer clear of the creatures. And a young man? A hunter for the tribe, probably, and even less likely to become prey. Jim sighed as he moved through what would be pitch darkness to other men, seeing his way easily. He was probably too late anyway. He fully expected to reach the scene and find no young man, but a very fat, happy-looking snake. He focused his ears again on the faint struggling sounds, the next of which stopped him in his tracks like he'd hit a stone wall.

"Oh God, somebody help me!"

Jim's eyes widened. English? ENGLISH?! What the hell? He was the only one in the area that should be speaking English. With new determination, Ellison charged ahead. He now used his superior eyesight to sweep the area of the jungle ahead of him, looking for his target.  He spotted him ahead, through the trees. It was a young Western man, small, slight, and flirting dangerously close to death. The snake coiled around him was the largest Ellison had ever seen. He pulled his knife.

The young man was slowly suffocating; his lips turning blue from lack of air. His ribs were being compressed inward; without immediate action they would begin to splinter and break, increasing the likelihood of puncturing  internal organs. Black explosions were blooming before his eyes, and he gave in to the approaching blackness. The pain was fading, at last, as he lay helplessly on the soggy ground, wrapped in the snake's coils. As everything began to go dark, he could swear he heard another voice, shouting.

"Hey!"

Jim roared with all his might as he ran up toward the snake and its helpless victim. As he'd hoped, the snake raised its head toward Ellison, to inspect the source of the new sound, the fresh source of food. It was the last thought the big reptile had, as Jim sliced the knife down in an arc, neatly severing the snake's head from its body. Jim flinched as he was splattered by a gout of cold reptilian blood. The huge reptile tightened reflexively, then abruptly relaxed its hold on the youth, and tried to slither away.  Jim reached down as soon as the coils let go and grabbed the limp young man's wrists. He dragged the kid backwards, away from the snake which now laying in a writhing, bleeding mass of scales and coils. Jim kept one eye on the monster as the great beast shifted once more, and lay still.

Once the threat of the snake was gone, Jim turned his attention to its intended meal. He carefully pressed his fingers to the younger man's throat, and gave a sigh of relief as he felt the weak but steady beat beneath his fingers. The kid wasn't breathing though, and if Ellison didn't remedy that soon, his vanquishing of the snake would be for nothing. After checking that the young man's neck and spine were intact, the soldier tilted his head back and gently breathed a shallow lungful of air into him. He didn't want to fill the kid's lungs too far, in case there were broken ribs.  He'd had enough shit to deal with from Benny dying that way; no need to add to the tremendous guilt by sending a kid on like that.

A few more gentle breaths from Ellison and the younger man gasped. Jim held him by the shoulders as he wheezed and choked, starved lungs demanding air. After a moment, the spasms stopped, replaced by labored, but steady respiration. Ellison smiled in satisfaction. It felt good to be able to save someone. God knew, too much of what he did lately was the taking of lives, rather than saving them.

Jim's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of heavy breathing. He raised his head and scanned the surrounding jungle, spotting the leopard easily. The big cat was still about a quarter mile away, but  no doubt homing in on the scent of the snake's blood. They had to get out of there, and now. There was no telling how many other predators would soon be making a beeline for the remains of the anaconda.

Carefully, minding the bruised and likely injured ribs, Ellison slid his hands under the young man and gently lifted the limp body into his arms. As he stood up, the kid's eyes flew open, wide with terror, and he began to struggle weakly.

"No, no it's okay," Jim said quickly, getting the young man to meet his eyes. His heart jumped a couple of beats. God, what eyes. He had to forcibly tear his gaze away from the sapphire pools that looked on him in fear and pain. He began to move through the brush back to his camp, speaking in a soft, reassuring tone to the young man, who was now silent with fright. Jim realized he must look a sight, face streaked with dark  paint and snake's blood. Kid probably thought he was some kind of witch doctor. "Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you," he said quietly.  "I'm taking you back to my camp where you'll be safe, where I can fix you up, all right?" Jim glanced at the pale face again. He was relieved when the kid seemed to relax a little in his arms. He still hadn't said a word, and Ellison was starting to wonder if he might not be suffering some kind of brain damage, or mental trauma.

They went along in silence for a long few minutes. Jim stumbled once, while glancing at the kid when he gasped a little in pain. As Ellison teetered, he felt arms reach up nervously to clutch at his shoulders. "It's okay kid, I've got you," he said in a soft, reassuring voice, regaining his footing and moving on. Soon, the kid's arms were wrapped tightly around his muscular neck, and Jim could see the curl-covered head bobbing as he tried to stay awake. "Go to sleep, if you want," he told him, tightening his arms just a little. Strange, this sudden rush of protectiveness he was feeling. He'd met this person less than an hour ago, well, hadn't even really met him, since they hadn't even exchanged names; yet Jim knew he would do anything to keep him safe. Bizarre. He took a deep breath to calm himself and his wayward thoughts and realized that the strangeness to the air from earlier was gone.  If it was possible to scent peace and calm, he had.

His thoughts trailed off as a weak voice suddenly reached his ears.

"Blair."

The big man looked down, actually stopping in mid-stride. "What'd you say?"  He'd heard the kid loud and clear, but he wanted to get him to talk a little more. "What was that?" He leaned his head a bit to foster the illusion that he was listening with normal hearing.

"Blair... my name's.... Blair," the kid gasped, wincing as a wave of pain went through him. "I... don't like... to be called... kid," he added weakly. His eyelids were droopy and his skin was cool and a little clammy.  Possible shock, the medic portion of Jim's brain offered.

Ellison smiled. "Okay, Blair," he said softly, starting forward again. They went along in silence for awhile, Jim moving steadily through the darkness and Blair laying quiet and unresponsive in his arms. After another few minutes, Jim's curiosity got the better of him. "If you don't mind me asking, ki... Blair; what in the world is a Westerner doing in this part of the jungle?" Jim shuddered at the memory of the young man's body being crushed by the snake. "This is a rough neighborhood, know what I mean?"

Blair was silent for a moment, rallying his strength. "I'm... a student," he said, wheezing against his bruised lungs. "R... Rainier... University... upstate Wa... Washington." He closed his sleep-heavy eyes, head drooping again. "Got... separated from... my group...," his voice trailed off.

"What's a student doing in the Peruvian jungle?" Jim asked. There was no response.  The big man looked down sharply, alarmed. The kid was asleep. Jim sighed in relief, then smiled when Blair laid his head on Jim's shoulder; a little gesture of trust that touched his heart. He found himself studying the kid's face as he moved along. Innocent. Beautiful.  The long, dark lashes that fluttered against the stubble-roughed cheeks. The full, sensual lips with their little cupid-bow pout, the adorable turned up nose.... Ellison shook his head, trying to clear it. What the hell was wrong with him? Here was this young man, hurt and in need of his help, and all he could think of was....

Ellison pushed the thoughts from his mind. He'd been alone in the jungle for a long time, and the locals weren't a consideration.  It was only natural to feel attraction toward the first non-native he had close contact with. Humans, especially Westerners, weren't meant to be alone.  His sudden rush of affection for this kid was totally understandable. //Yeah, keep going, Jimbo. Maybe you'll even believe it, eventually,// his mind scoffed at him.

Soon, Ellison came into the familiar clearing where he had made camp, and ducked carefully through the flap of his makeshift hut. He knelt and gently laid his sleeping burden down on the pile of brush he used for a pallet. Blair moaned a little in his sleep, clutching at Jim's arms as the bigger man eased him down.

"Shh, it's okay," Ellison soothed, laying a hand against Blair's forehead in an oddly tender gesture. "You're safe now, Blair. I won't let anyone hurt you."  Jim smiled as Blair's body relaxed, and he settled back into sleep.

********************************

Jim left the kid sleeping the next morning when he went out to recon his area.  It took several hours to walk the perimeter, since he was by himself, so he left some cold food and a canteen near the pallet.  He didn't figure Blair would wake up much, but just in case...

To his surprise, Blair was not only awake, but had managed to prop himself up a bit and was looking around in interest.  From what Jim could see his eyes were a little dull--probably from pain.  Jim had some herbals Kandiki had given him for that.  His nostrils flared as he truly caught Blair's scent for the first time -- although it had registered last night he'd been too caught up in what was happening to take much notice.  He realized with a start that this was the scent, or very close to it, that had been bothering him, niggling at him, for the last couple of days.  Then it had been an annoyance, something to puzzle over because he couldn't pinpoint the source.  Now, however, his body was tightening in response, reminding him again of how long it had been.  And this kid was beautiful enough to trigger that automatic response, especially that lush, pouty mouth...

There was more to it than just physical hunger though.  This kid, no, he corrected himself, this *man*,  touched a chord in him.  Jim shook his head and ducked into the shelter.  "Hey, how you feelin'?"

Blair looked up at Jim and tried to smile.  "Hurts.  Everywhere."

"I got some herbs from the medicine woman in the village--she said they'd help."

"What are they?"

"I don't have a clue.  Something for the pain."  Jim searched Blair's face.  "You know about herbals?"

Blair smiled, a genuine one this time.  "Some.  I'm an anthropology student.  You pick up stuff like that."  He shifted and grimaced.  "Hey, man...not that I don't like the accommodations...but I need to go.  Uhhh!"  He grunted as he tried to shift to a standing position.  Jim was next to him in a heartbeat.

"C'mon, Blair...let me help."  He gently supported Blair, giving him a secure base to lean on.  "I'm assuming you mean you have to take a leak."

"Yeah."

"Can you?"

"What do you mean?"  Blair felt his face grow warm. 

"By yourself.  Do you need help, or can you by yourself?"

"Lead me to a tree...I'll lean against it."

****************************

//How embarrassing,// Blair thought as he buttoned up his jeans. //Not even able to take a leak myself.//  The 'lean against a tree' idea had sounded good in theory, but in reality…  His face flushed red with the memory of Jim having to hold him upright while he relieved himself and he shook his head in dismay. //Nice going, Sandburg.  Lost from the group, nearly killed and eaten by a giant snake...what else are you going to do?//

"Blair!"  The voice was insistent, and Blair suddenly realized that the other occupant of the hut was addressing him.

"Sorry man.  I spaced out, I guess."

"Really?  I didn't even notice."

Blair flushed again as the sarcasm registered.  "What'd you say? And what's your name, man?  I don't mean to be rude, but if you told me, I don't remember."

Jim shook his head, nearly laughing.  Jungle etiquette--never exchange personal information.  "Ellison.  Captain James Ellison, US Army.  You can call me Jim, if you want. You?"

"Blair Sandburg, almost-graduate-student."  He flashed even white teeth at Jim, and the other man felt his heart begin thudding double time.

"Almost?"

"Well, technically, I am.  I graduated this past spring; got my BS in Anthro, and I start the Master's program this fall.  That's the reason I'm down here--working on a tribal study.  Part of the program of study is field work...and something made me feel like I needed to be in Peru."  Blair watched as Jim jumped up and began pacing around the small room.  He shifted to a more comfortable position on his back.  "What'd you want to ask me?

"I honestly don't remember now."  Jim grabbed a canteen and took a long swallow.  "Thirsty?"

Blair shook his head.  "Just tired.  Need to--"  his mouth opened in an impressive yawn,  "--sleep some more."

Jim nodded and capped the canteen.  "It's gonna take several days at least before you're not sore.  I don't think anything's broken, but definitely strained.  You're lucky, Sandburg, that I was out there and heard you."  Jim caught Blair's eyes with his own.  "Another few minutes and you'd have been nothing but a memory, and possibly indigestion for that snake."  Jim watched Blair's eyes widen, and pulled back, afraid he'd be drawn into the electricity he saw generated in those eyes.  "What were you doing out there anyway?" //Oh, shit...have to give him the herbals.// Jim uncapped the canteen again, and poured some water into a small pot on his makeshift "stove".

Blair closed his eyes.  "Are you gonna let me sleep, or what, man?"  He let his voice echo his irritation a little.  He was tired, sore, ached in places he didn't know he had...and he was feeling the strangest feelings for this large, gruff man. //Is this it? Is this what I've been waiting for…needing to come down here for?//  Since opening his eyes last night, being carried in Ellison's arms, he couldn't put the other man out of his mind.  It was like they had forged a connection in the very brief time they'd known each other.  He tuned back into Jim, not even really needing to hear the words, just liking the man's voice.

"We gotta make this tea for you, Sandburg.  Forgot about it for a minute there."  Jim let his memory flash on helping the kid take a pee.  Close body contact with another human being was something he'd sorely missed and he'd grown hard watching - helping - him.  Not to mention the rest of it.  There was *something* about this almost-grad-student that was pulling him into a place he hadn't been…hadn't wanted to be…in a long, long time.

"I told you--I'm part of a group doing a tribal study.  I decided to take a walk, and got turned around.  Next thing I knew, I was totally lost...and you know the rest."

"Any idea of where your group is?"

Blair shook his head.  "We only got here a couple of days ago--just been here long enough to set up our camp, and get a little settled.  Where are we here?"

Jim shrugged as he added the herbs to the boiling water, removing it from the heat.  "I could show you the coordinates on a grid map, but it wouldn't mean anything to you--a grid map doesn't read like a regular map."

"Swell."  Blair lay his head back.  Just fucking swell.  "How long will you be here?"

Jim frowned. //Can't reveal too much information.//  "Sorry, that's classified.  But I can tell you I'll be here at least until you're healed.  We'll figure it out, Sandburg.  I'll get you back to your people."

Blair grimaced as he shifted to raise up.  Ellison was handing him a cup with some bitter-smelling liquid in it.  "You make me sound like a lost puppy, or something.  Thanks, man."  He took a long drink, making a face at the taste, but quickly draining the mug.

"If you could see yourself, Sandburg, you'd know where that reference comes from.  You look like you're about 10 years old...and you have these puppy-dog eyes..."  Jim broke off as Blair stared at him, a strange look in those fabulous eyes.  "I have to get back out to...Well, I have to get back out there.  You be okay in here?"

"Yeah, man...I'm just gonna sleep for the rest of the day.  I'll be fine."  Blair waved toward the door.  "You go on."

Jim headed for the door.  He had to get out of here, now.  "If you need anything, give a holler.  I'll hear you."

"Okay, yeah, whatever,"  Blair mumbled as he fell asleep.  He was gone before Jim had left the clearing.

******************************

True to his prediction, Blair slept most of the day.  Jim returned when the afternoon shadows were lengthening into evening to find his unexpected guest struggling into a sitting position, eyes still dark and shadowed with exhaustion and pain.

"Hey.  Blair.  Hang on a second."  The soldier hurried into the hut to help support the younger man into an upright position.  "You sure you want to be sitting up?"

Blair gasped a little as his bruised body shifted to accommodate, but nodded.  "Need to.  My body needs to move a little…promote circulation…get the healing started."

"I thought the best thing to do when you're hurt is lie still?"  Had it been that long since his training?

"Nah--most healers know that you're better off getting up and moving around.  Doctors and nurses are finally starting to get that, too.  Not that I have much to do with modern medicine."

"You don't?"  Ellison shifted back a bit from the younger man, needing a break from the incredible electrical current that seemed to flow back and forth between them. //I wonder if he feels it too?  I wonder what's *causing* it.//

Sandburg was shaking his head.  "My mother never went in much for modern medicine--she's kind of a non-conformist."  He laughed quietly, carefully, thinking about his mother.  Non-conformist, indeed!  "She's kind of into the hippy thing.  Y'know, free love, all that."

Jim made a face at him.  "So I'm rooming with a flower-child?"  The voice was serious, beneath the teasing words.

"Huh-uh.  I'm way more conforming than Naomi is, man.  Like my freedom…but I like some of the benefits that come from conforming, too.  Western medicine, however, isn't one of them.  I go to a curandero," the spanish term for healer rolled off the younger man's lips and Jim wondered how certain other words would sound before forcing his mind away from that dangerous track and back onto Blair's words, "when he's available."

"You never go to the doctor?"  Ellison raised an eyebrow.

"Not never, man, just not often."  Blair raised his own eyebrow. "How in the hell did we get on THIS topic?"

The older man shrugged, dismissing the subject.  "Beats me."  He stretched out on the floor, conscious of Blair's eyes on him, trying not to let that dark gaze get to him.  He had to do some stretching exercises before his body starting cramping from all the patrolling he'd done today.  "How you feeling now?"

"Tired, sore, but better.  You got any more of those herbs?" 

"Yeah--I'll get you some more in just a minute."  Ellison arched, reaching his hands behind his head his head in a long, almost sensual stretch.

  

  1. The larger man shifted again, and Blair's eyes caught a flash of inky black against pale flesh.
  



"What's that?" he gestured toward the spot on Ellison's chest, then blushed when the older man shot him an indecipherable look.  "Sorry, man.  I saw the black--it kinda stands out."

"No, not a problem."  Jim sat up and pulled the tee-shirt over his head, his body rippling with the movement.  "It's a, well, a kind of tattoo."

"Really? What kind?"  Blair squinted in the dim light, wishing he had his glasses so he could see better.

Ellison sighed and shifted forward on his knees so that Blair could get a better look.  "It's a tribal mark."

"That is *so* cool, man."  Blair leaned toward the larger man, moving carefully, mindful of his injured body, his eyes tracing  the lines.  "Can you tell me about it?" he asked, looking up at Jim.

The older man shuddered a little as warm breath caressed his skin when Blair spoke.  The heat and moisture seemed to flow over him, lightly stroking his nipple, which tightened in response.  "Um…" his voice was suddenly hoarse and he paused to clear his throat, hoping that would help.  "It's, that is, the two lines crossed symbolize spears, which is the tribal symbol for a warrior, and the circle surrounding it is my own personal symbol."

To his ever-lasting relief, because he was suddenly so turned on he was on the verge of embarrassing himself, Blair leaned back away from him. "Way cool, man.  It looks fairly new.  When'd ya get it? How was it done?"

"Last month. And it's made by cutting the skin, then rubbing in an antiseptic salve made of woodash--that's what makes it black.  I guess technically it's a scar…but it looks more like a tattoo."  Jim rubbed his fingers over the small symbol absently, then mentally shook his head to clear it.  "Okay, Sandburg."  He rose to his feet, slapping his thighs.  "Let me get you the herbs, and find us something to eat."

"Is there any reason why I can't walk around a little bit outside? I need to take a leak again, and stretch my legs a little bit."

"As long as you stay in the clearing--don't venture beyond that.  The locals don't know you, so you're suspect to them unless you're with me, and the animals would make a good meal out of you."  Jim watched Blair with worried eyes.  "You sure you're up to it? I can help you again."

Blair flushed with a combination of excitement and embarrassment at Jim's words. //Man I'd love to have your hands on me…but not for taking a piss.//  "No, man, I can do it.  Thanks.  I really do need to move around a little."

"Lemme help you up, then," the bigger man was saying, hands already reaching for Blair.  The warm, vibrant body under his touch was stirring feelings in him he thought he'd never feel again; hadn't thought he'd ever *want* to feel again.  They got Blair up on his feet, then Jim stood dead still as the younger man hung on him, waiting to steady himself.  It was all he could do not to clutch at him when Sandburg shifted and moved away.

"I'll be right out here, just walking around," the low-pitched voice called to him.

"Fine," he managed hoarsely.  "I'll let you know when I've got some chow ready."

He watched Sandburg walk stiffly, awkwardly, out the door of the hut, his eyes raking over the lean figure.  Small, but not tiny, nor feminine.  There wasn't anything at all feminine about the younger man, not even the long hair he wore, nor the earrings threaded through his left lobe.  He was small, but sturdy; firm, though not muscular.  Had had at some point some weight-training, but nothing like what Jim was used to.  He had a rougher five-o'clock shadow than Jim himself sported, and more body hair.  Oh, god, that hair.  Visions of running his tongue through it, tasting the sweat that gathered on it and around it--

A low, primal sound rang through the hut and Jim was startled back into reality by the realization that it came from him.  His cock was rock hard in his pants, and he was breathing fast and hard. //This is gonna drive me fucking insane,// he mused as he adjusted himself.  He judged it would be several more days at least before Blair was in any kind of condition to go tramping through the jungle underbrush; meanwhile, he was going to go out of his mind with wanting the younger man.  A slow burn moved through him when he recognized that he *did* want him; it had been a long time since he'd felt desire for another person.  There were a few warriors in the tribe who'd made casual offers, and he'd had his share and then some of offers from some of the women; truth of the matter was he, he just couldn't bring himself to be interested.  No amount of rationalization had been able to assuage him of the guilt he felt over Benny's death, no matter that he wasn't personally responsible for the accident or the other man's injuries.

But now--perhaps the healing had finally started; he could look at another man again and feel the desire to lay with him, to be with him.  Or was it something unique to Blair himself?  Jim shook his head at his musings and began moving around the hut to prepare their dinner.

*****************************

Blair leaned back against the tree, tilting his head toward the sky.  It was early afternoon, and although Jim had assured him this was the rainy season for the area, it was bright, sunny and warm.

He'd been Captain Ellison's guest now for five days; five days which had been at the same time the longest and shortest periods of time in his life.  Long because he wanted to heal *faster*, in order to spend more time with the man, short because he wanted to spend more time with the man before having to return to his group.

He'd never been a big believer in the idea of love at first sight, and if he was being honest with himself, he didn't fall in love with Ellison at first glance; it might have actually taken as long as 24 hours.  He snorted.  In his book, 24 hours was as close to 'at first sight' as you got.

And just what right did he have falling in love with this dude anyway?  Oh, never mind that he was quite probably the most gorgeous man Blair had ever laid eyes on.  Tall, well-built, eyes that were the slate-blue of a late afternoon sky after rainfall, a deep bass voice that Blair would happily listen to from now until eternity…Ellison was the epitome of what Blair had been looking for.

He was also a captain in the United States army, and the leader of a band of local warriors who, in lieu of his own squadron, whose helicopter had been presumably shot down by guerrillas, was fighting his own little war out here.  Ergo, not exactly Mr. 'I'm-available-for-a-long-term-commitment'.

They'd spent so many hours over the last several nights, staring at each other over campfire flames, talking about themselves to the other, sharing thoughts, ideas, opinions.  He'd been horrified to learn that Jim had been here in the jungle for nearly 14 months now, with no outside contact; apparently resigned to being considered dead.

"The Army will come looking for me, for the rest of them, when they feel the time is right.  For now I have a mission to carry out, and I was ordered to radio silence.  Contacting them would violate my orders from my superior, if they even admitted to my presence down here," was all Ellison had said when Blair had offered to contact the Army for him.

There was something else about Ellison though…something that had been niggling at the back of Blair's brain for nearly the entire time he'd been here now.  How had the older man known where to find him? He'd said he heard Blair scream, that night the snake attacked him.  *How* had he heard him?  The small encampment where they were staying was well away from the area Jim normally patrolled, if Blair had been paying attention when Jim talked about it.  And his casual comments: "just holler if you need anything".  Well, yeah, sure.  Jim walked a one-to-three mile perimeter sweep four times a day.  How would he hear?  And seeing things that Blair couldn't begin to see--the large panther that had stalked them for a mile or so yesterday.  The bend in the brush that showed where some of the game animals had been.  Smell--woodsmoke from a campfire they happened upon; Jim had smelt it for nearly four hundred yards before they actually *saw* the remains of the fire. 

Could this man have some of the attributes that Burton talked about in his writings on Sentinels? Blair thought about the mark that Jim wore.  Two crossed spears inside a circle.  A circle protects--it was used in magicking for that…it guards…his own personal symbol…Tribal guard? Guardian?  How or why would he be the guardian of a local tribe?  He shook his head, suddenly having more questions than answers, and finding he was hot from the sun.  He shifted carefully to get to his feet, although the bruising and pain was nearly gone.  A momentary weakness left his legs shaking under him and Blair gasped when he felt himself start to fall.

A large warm hand was suddenly there, startling him, supporting  him, settling him on his feet.  Blair stared up into the eyes of Jim Ellison, noting the intense blue, the flare of heat followed by the banking of arousal. //He wants me, too.//

"Where'd you come from?"  he demanded of Jim, surprise and shock wearing off now, leaving him with only his own arousal to deal with.

"I was nearly at the camp when I saw you start to get up.  I'm quiet, Blair--I spend 90 percent of my time out in the jungle, surveying, stalking, moving.  My survival often depends on my ability to move with stealth…so I do."

"Well, you're good at it.  Damn, if I hadn't already been off balance I probably would have peed my pants from the scare you gave me."

"I'm sorry.  I'll try to make more noise next time."  Jim held his hands out in a placating gesture, hoping to soothe the younger man.  He could smell the musk rising from him, the unmistakable odor of arousal.  The intense indigo eyes were so hot toward him they nearly singed him with their heat, and the younger man's heart and breathing were off the scale. //He wants me, too.//

They stared at one another across a space of less than two feet; lips were parted, moistened with flashes of pink tongue and wet saliva, more musk was released into the air.  They swayed dangerously close to one another for a long, long moment before moving back into their own separate personal spaces.

"I, um, made some stuff for lunch…if you're hungry."  Blair was aware that his voice was an octave lower, and raspier than usual; he also didn't care.  He could feel the heat from Jim's body, so tantalizingly close, yet still so far away.

"Uh, yeah, that'd be good.  What'd you make?"  The moment was past now and Jim was aware of his concerted effort to push the swell of arousal down.  Lunch seemed like a good way to start doing that.

Blair shrugged.  "It's kind of like a stew; all vegetables though--if you want meat, you're shit out of luck, man.  I'm not a hunter."

Jim regarded him with some surprise as they began walking toward the hut.  "What'd you do, ransack my supplies?"

A brief, embarrassed grin gave him his answer.  "I wanted to have something ready for you when you got back, since you had to leave so early this morning."  Blair dropped his head to regard the ground for a minute.  "Sorry 'bout messing with your stuff, man.  I was just--"

"Sandburg--relax.  It's okay.  I think I've figured out that you're not the enemy.  As far as lunch goes, I'm starved, and food sounds good; especially food that *I* haven't had to fix myself.  D'you know how long it's been since I've had someone else's cooking to eat?"

Blair shook his head, still not totally over his embarrassment.  "I'd guess at least a year, man."

"Longer than that, kid.  I was out on other field exercises for almost six months before this mission."

"Whoa, man."  Blair ducked into the small hut and headed for the small hearth Jim had set up to cook indoors when the weather was bad.  It had been raining this morning when he'd started the stew, so indoors it had been.  The little thatched building actually felt cozy, fire going, the smell of cooking food moving on the air currents.  //I could stay here and play house with him for as long as forever takes,// the younger man mused as he began scooping a bowl of food up for his host.  "So, like, I guess the Army doesn't go much for the old long-term relationship thing, huh."

Jim removed his weapons and kevlar, then stripped down to his waist, pausing to inspect the several small scratches he'd received early this morning, when bits of jungle fauna and flora had gone flying from bullet fire.

"That depends on what you're using as 'long-term', and what section you're in."  He accepted the bowl of stew and sat down to eat.

"Well, my definition of long-term is anything over six months, and what would it matter what section you're in?  And what do you mean by section, anyway?"  Blair scooped up his own bowl and joined Jim on the floor to eat.

"This is good, by the way," the older man said first, shoveling the food in.  "I was hungry. Thanks."

"No prob, man."  Blair watched him, trying not to be too obvious.  "So--the section thing?"

"Well, I'm a Ranger; you know, special forces.  Like the Airborne, or the Navy Seals, or some of the special air force pilots.  Y'know, the highly trained, specialized experts."  His face and voice reflected his enthusiasm for his chosen profession, and Blair smiled into his bowl.  "Anyway, people get married, have families, stuff like that, even when the soldier is in the S.F., it's just not real easy on the family members left behind."

"How do you mean?"  Blair picked up Jim's now-empty bowl and handed him his.  He wasn't hungry; a tight coil of excitement was unwinding in his stomach.  He felt nearly sick from the sense of expectation and anticipation, and wasn't even sure why.

Ellison frowned.  It was getting harder and harder to remember why he wasn't supposed to share this information; he'd lived near and among the Chopec for so long now that he often said things--things he knew didn't matter, because they certainly wouldn't know what he was talking about.  It was different with Blair.  Not only was the man a Westerner, like himself, but he was bright, intellectual, curious.  He could put two and two together and somehow come up with way more than four.  On the other hand, why couldn't he tell him some basic stuff? It wasn't like he was going to spill the Ranger code--not that he even thought the kid would be interested, if he did--and who was Blair going to tell?  And on a much deeper, more primitive level, he trusted Blair.  Implicitly, without question or reserve.

"Jim?"  A warm hand touched his arm and Ellison started.  "Hey, man you were far, far away there for a minute."

"Sorry, just gathering my thoughts."  The larger man stared at him for a long moment.  "Mostly, when you're connected with someone in S.F., if that soldier is wounded, or, especially if he's killed during an exercise, the family can never know the real story of what happened.  A guerrilla bullet that kills him becomes an accident on a training mission.  A chopper that is shot down over enemy territory becomes a mechanical failure on a routine flight.  Stuff like that."

Blair's face reflected his view of that.  "That's awful, man!  Why can't the family be told the truth?"

"Because 99 percent of the time, we're operating under the code of 'we know you're there, but if you're discovered we'll deny any knowledge'.  It's called 'cover your ass', Sandburg.  Yeah, it sucks, but that's the gist of it."

The younger man regarded him quietly for a moment.  "So who got notified of your 'mechanical failure', Jim?" he asked softly.

Ellison's face tightened.  "No one," he whispered harshly, then got up and stalked out the door.

//Way to go, Sandburg,// the younger man berated himself silently.  What had happened? One minute they were discussing some military stuff, and the next, Ellison was stalking out of the small structure like he couldn't stand to be in the same space with him.  What the hell was up with that?  He shook his head and started cleaning up the mess from lunch.  When Jim came back--assuming that would happen sometime soon--he would ask him to take him back to his camp.  He was still sore; traveling through the jungle would be painful, but manageable.  It was time to get away from here before he lost any more of his heart and soul to this man.

****************************

Ellison moved through the forest, trying to work off some of the pain, frustration and anger that the conversation with Blair had raised.  Oh, not the younger man's fault--he had no way of knowing that the innocent questions he was asking were the hair-triggers for all of the emotions that Jim had locked away over the last decade; then buried deep in the last year.

If he did ever get rescued from here, he was going to resign his commission.  He couldn't do  this any longer.  As much as he loved the army, his life within it, and believed in what he was doing, there were easier ways to work to preserve justice and peace.  He didn't want a life anymore where he was ruled by others as to whom he could sleep with (although, the small voice in his head whispered, that's always going to be a consideration, if you chose the same sex); when he could sleep with them, and what they'd be told if something happened to him.  He didn't want to have a spouse, or a family, and know that if he died in a battle fighting guerrillas, they'd be told it was a training accident.  He wanted his family, even in grief, to be proud of what he was doing and why he'd done it--not to have to wonder, and guess.

At least in another job, a civilian something, he could let some people know, discretely, if his significant other was a guy.  His heart tightened when he realized that if Benny hadn't been on the mission with him, he'd still be sitting back at Ft. Campbell, wondering what really had gone down.  He maybe would have heard a little bit of scuttlebutt; no matter *how* careful people were, rumors always got out, but he wouldn't have been able to ask any leading questions--not unless he wanted to risk exposing who he was and what his true relationship with Captain Ellison had been.

Thoughts of that happening to Blair--for the brief, unguarded moment he allowed himself to consider the younger man his--made his heart throb and his head ache.  No way.  He couldn't do that to anyone else; certainly not to someone he loved.

A flash of heat, of feeling, rushed through him then at the sound of that word echoing around the corridors of his brain.  'Love'.  Did he? Love Blair?  Well…more like head-over-heels in love with the younger man, but this wasn't the time for nit-picking.  Just using the two words in the same sentence was enough of a shock.

He trudged his way through the thickness of the jungle wondering how life could be so wonderful and so rotten all at the same time.  Realizing that you found the man you wanted to love forever, then realizing nearly in the same thought that that could never happen as long as you stayed in your chosen field…  Thunder rolled overhead and he grimaced, knowing that in about 60 seconds he was gonna be wetter than if he'd jumped in the river to go swimming. Yep, this was really a great day.

******************************

  

  1. He straightened up, peering into the darkness of the foliage.
  



"Jim?  That you?"  The older man had promised he make a little more noise, but Blair didn't see him just standing there making noise; Jim would come forward.  Even if he was still pissed off--and Blair couldn't figure out what he'd said that should have triggered a reaction like he got--he would at least show himself.  "Jim, if that's you, you're freakin' me out here, man."

No answer.  Fuck.  That meant it probably wasn't Jim.  One of the local natives?  Probably not, Jim had told him they rarely came to the encampment.  Besides, they would have been like Ellison, most likely.  Just sneaking up on him, unawares.  A low growl carried through the brush and wind-noise to his ears.  A cat-like growl.  Shit, he was NOT liking this.  He opened his mouth to yell, Jim's voice running through his mind.  "If you ever need me, just holler.  I'll hear you."  Nothing came out.  Great.  He swallowed, his throat tight with fear.  What the hell was he gonna do if some big jungle cat decided he would make a great meal?  He swallowed again, then opened  his mouth.

"Get *back*, you!  Jim!  Help!"

He was opening his mouth to shout again when a large cat appeared in the clearing.  Jaguar? Maybe.  He wasn't totally sure.  It wasn't a panther--they were bigger, sleeker.  This cat stared at him, the cold, dark primal eyes of an inborn killer, then began a slow pace, moving about the clearing, as if trying to figure how best to come at him.  Blair watched it, moving slowly backward, wondering if it would make a difference if he was inside the hut.  Probably not.  Damn thing would probably follow him and make a bigger mess killing him inside.

He flicked his eyes to the side wondering if he had a snowball's chance in hell of running past the damn thing, then figured not.  And why the hell was it here, anyway?  Surely the smell of woodsmoke from the fire next to the hut should have kept it and all other carnivores away.  Another low growl caught his attention and he flicked his eyes back to see the jaguar settling into a belly-crawl position, probably getting ready to pounce.  He took a deep breath and was about to make a run for it when a loud, feline scream sounded through the clearing and a panther jumped onto the back of the jaguar.

*******************************

Jim heard Blair's yell with nearly a half-mile still to go to camp.  This was the worst part about the heightened senses--although he could hear/see/smell...he couldn't *get* there any faster.  He still had very normal running abilities.  "Get back, you."  Who, or what was in the camp with the younger man?  Then he heard the warning scream of an animal who's had its territory invaded, and the primal scream of an enraged, possibly wounded cat.  Great, two of them, duking it out in his clearing, with Blair there alone.  He shoved his weapons further onto his back and sped up as much as he could manage.

*******************************

The smaller cat was dead.  Blair stood near the entrance to the hut, staring in horrified fascination, unable to believe he'd just watched what he'd just watched.  The panther had fought it, hard, not letting the smaller cat get the upper hand at any point during the confrontation. Now it stood in front of him, its tail flicking restlessly back and forth.  He watched it, the tightly coiled, barely contained control; the sleek, beautiful power contained within it.  For some reason, staring at it, knowing it had fought for *him* made him think of Jim.  And here it was, obviously ready to go, but just as obviously, waiting for something.

What that something was came crashing through the underbrush a moment later, in the form of a pissed-off, scared-to-death James Ellison.  He had his Chopec bow held at ready, already sighting the big cat, drawing the string back tautly.

It was just like his dream, Sandburg realized, watching the interplay of characters. He, wounded and defenseless. The large predator ready to take advantage of that. The larger predator coming to his rescue, then waiting for…

"Jim--No!"  Blair threw his arms up, jumping forward, hoping to end this before it ended in another way.  The large panther turned with a deafening roar and Jim found himself lost in the ebony depths of the animal's eyes.  He stared transfixed for a moment, then wrenched his gaze away to look at Blair.

"You okay, Sandburg?" he demanded, then blanched when he saw the smaller cat, bloodied and not moving, at the edge of the clearing.

"Fine, man.  He...he protected me, Jim.  Just came out of nowhere and fought the jag...killed him for me.  Then he hung around and waited--I guess he was waiting 'til you got here."

Jim stared at him, watching him intently.  "So the jag came into the clearing first?  Just came in?"

Blair nodded, his eyes holding Jim's.  "At first I thought it was you, making noise like you'd said you'd do.  Then it growled.  I didn't figure you growl."

"Depends on the circumstances," Jim said, his blood pressure beginning to rise.  "Jesus, Sandburg--"

"I'm okay, Jim. Honest."  To say he was surprised when the older man pulled him into a hard, tight hug, was the understatement of the century.  To his further shock, Jim was shaking hard against him.  "Jim...it's okay.  I'm okay.  Really."

He could hear Jim muttering in his ear as hot hands smoothed up and down his back.  "I can't lose you...not you too...not here..."

Blair brought his arms up to hold the older man, his body shifting into a protective stance.  There was a gentle soul housed in this harsh, gruff exterior; a gentle soul that had been scarred and hurt over the years.  He lowered his voice to a soft whisper, murmuring against the hard chest he was pressed to, "It's okay, Jim.  You're not going to lose me."

They stood there, hugging each other, for several long minutes before Jim had enough strength to pull himself away from the warmth and safety of Blair's arms.  He stared at the younger man for a moment, his eyes boring into the smoky blue depths in front of him, seeking…what? What was he looking for there? Absolution? Answers? Questions that *he* could answer? He shook his head and shifted his gaze.

"I'm sorry," he told him finally, brushing several sweat-dampened curls back behind one ear.  "Didn't mean to…well, y'know."

Blair let his arms drop to his sides, wishing he could think of a good, or at least plausible, reason to keep holding on to the older man.  "S'okay, man.  I understand…and we all need a hug sometimes.  Even tough army dudes.  Don't sweat it."

********************************

Jim took care of the bloody carcass almost immediately, telling Blair that it was dangerous to leave the scent of blood hanging in the air where other predators could smell it and come investigating. 

The younger man hung out inside the small shelter, sensing that Jim needed some time alone with his thoughts; he'd revealed a great deal of his feelings with the impromptu hug that afternoon and Blair had a feeling that the reticent Army captain wasn't as used to that as he was.

He listened with half an ear to the sounds outside that indicated Jim was back from where he'd gone to dispose of the dead animal.  The sun was beginning its downward descent, and if Jim was out there it seemed like a good time to approach the topic of dinner.  He shuffled to his feet and headed outside, pausing in the doorway to stare at the fire Jim was building.

"Hey, man, what's up with this?"

Jim shook his head.  "I still can't believe anything like that cat came into the clearing with the scent of woodsmoke hanging around…but it must not be strong enough anymore.  I'm gonna burn a fire for the next couple of days, build it back up again."

Blair eyed Jim, wondering how the older man was doing.  "Kinda warm for a fire, isn't it?"

Ellison whirled around. "Jesus, Sandburg! Do you have *any* idea how close you came to dying today?!  If I want to build a fucking fire, let me do it and do it in peace, okay?"

Blair backed up a little, hands upraised in a placating gesture.  "Whoa, man, chill.  I'm not the enemy here, soldier, remember?  You want to build a fire, go for it man."  He turned and went back into the darkness of the hut.  Screw dinner.  When Ellison had calmed down, then they could discuss it.

Jim watched the smaller man disappear inside and sighed to himself.  This afternoon had been a dizzying series of ups and downs; one more dip in either direction and he was likely to lose what remained of his control.  How could he have fallen so hard, so fast, for someone he barely knew? What was it about this man?  He'd nearly lost him to the jungle today, and shook at the thought of what that would have done.  Any tenuous grip that remained on his sanity right now would have been out the window.  He'd suffered nightmares for months, nearly a year, over losing Benny--and much as he'd cared for Benny, he hadn't felt the depth of emotion he felt for Blair Sandburg.

Darkness was beginning to overtake the jungle and the night sounds were replacing the day sounds.  He liked the night; it was richer, fuller, somehow, than the daytime.  The sounds were lush, wild, much more primal.  Shadows seemed to come alive and dance, drawing his vision to places not normally seen.

He hadn't enjoyed the nights before.  A year in the jungles, with only himself or some tribal warriors for company, had shown him how much he truly was a part of this.  Not just the jungle, but of the night itself.  He could lose himself in the shadows, blend in, become one.  Glints of light, mixing and moving, but never fully seen.  The dark was soothing to him, it quieted his soul, gave him an inner peace.  It was also raw and wild, which seemed to fit him. He felt primal…primitive…some days.  The desire had risen lately, nearly overpowering him, to give into those primal urges, to claim Blair as his and show him how they were destined to be mates.  The urge was running through him full-tilt right now, and it was all he could do to keep it shoved down to a manageable level.

Tonight, a shadow in his mind whispered.  Now, said another one.  He's yours, you need to take him.  Show him, claim him, *own* him.  Your mate, the other side of your soul, your salvation.

Jim pressed his hands to his head to quiet the shadow voices and opened his eyes.  Near dark.  Tonight.  Now.  Questions would be answered.  Promises made and kept. Destinies written and fulfilled.

He went inside the hut to ask Blair about dinner.

********************************

It was quiet out; the night music was just as beautiful, but it took time and exposure to hear it.  Jim hoped to have time to show Blair how beautiful night was here…how beautiful it sounded.

They'd had dinner, talked a little, cleaned up.  Now they were sharing the quiet at the campfire Jim had built up earlier in the day.  It had cooled off enough to make the fire a welcome thing, and the rain from earlier in the day had tapered off to a light mist that served only to lend a crackle and sizzle to the fire as tiny droplets hit the flames and spattered.

Blair watched Jim surreptitiously, wondering if the older man knew what he did--that it was to be, and would be.

Jim watched Blair surreptitiously, wondering if the younger man knew what he did--that it would be tonight, would be now.

In the flickering firelight their gazes caught and held.  Jim slowly raised a hand and combed his fingers through the riot of dark curls.  With his other hand he stroked his thumb across the full lower lip that pouted slightly.  "I want to kiss you,"  he whispered hoarsely, voice rough and heavy with desire.  "Can I?"  His thumb continued to stroke across that enticing lower lip, weaving its magic spell.

Blair nodded, not trusting his voice at that moment.  Jim leaned in closer, until his lips were just brushing the younger man's.  Jim heard a soft sigh and felt the warm breath on his own lips.  He pressed his mouth against the lushness waiting for him and felt it open under him, inviting him inward.

Jim stroked his tongue across Blair's, then began sweeping around the hot mouth, tasting every part of it.  Lips, teeth, tongue, palate.  He returned to the teasing tongue and caressed it lovingly with his own, felt the return of the caress as liquid heat glided across his.  He reluctantly left the sweet, moist cavern, and pulled back to stare into Blair's eyes.  They were dark, dilated...filled with desire, and love.  Desire for him.  Love for him.  Jim felt his heart contract; followed closely by his throbbing erection.  He couldn't remember ever wanting someone this badly--Blair was an intoxicant, and he needed another dose.

With a little groan of defeat he leaned in for another taste of those luscious lips.  Blair surprised him by wrapping his arms tightly around Jim's neck then and pressing his body close.  Jim could feel Blair's erect cock throbbing against him, and pulled the smaller man even closer.  They kissed, devouring each other as if their lives depended on it.  Heat flowed from one to the other, and back again.  Jim lowered his arms and his hands cupped soft asscheeks, massaging them gently.  Blair moaned against Jim's mouth, and nipped at the soft lips caressing his own.

The older man pulled away suddenly, and Blair whimpered at the loss.  Jim smiled, a seductive smile.  "We need to get out of these clothes, baby.  Help me?"

"Oh, yeah,"  Blair breathed.  He reached for the buttons on the worn camo pants with shaky fingers, gently caressing the hard length that was hidden beneath the cloth.  Jim moaned softly and pushed against Blair's hand.  Blair stroked him, then knelt down and mouthed him through the rough material.

Jim groaned, "Oh, Jesus, Blair...Oh, God..."  Blair pulled the pants down Jim's legs roughly, never completely losing hold of the hot, erect cock.  It sprang free from its prison, bobbing up and down slightly.  Blair stared at it, mesmerized, then leaned in toward Jim, a wicked gleam in his eyes.  He took the cock in his mouth and began gently sucking, felt Jim's hips beginning to move.

Ellison's hands reached for the soft curls before he was aware of it, holding, stroking, caressing.  That warm mouth was teasing and coaxing him, sucking, licking, driving him rapidly toward spontaneous combustion with the heat it was generating.  He wove his fingers into those silky curls and tugged gently, pulling Blair up to him for another mind-melting kiss.

The world spun crazily out of focus for a long, long time as their mouths tasted, then devoured, the other.  Jim's senses were swimming in the largesse of input.  Blair tasted like the jungle:  rich, damp, warm.  He smelled like exotic spices and erotic dreams:  hot, spicy, salty, bitter.  His skin was rough with body hair, and when he pulled his shirt off Jim gave into the desire he'd had since finding the him, and stroked and ruffled his fingers through the generous mat sprinkled across Blair's chest and stomach.

And here was something else to grab at Jim's senses and tease him:  a glittering spot of gold nestled in among the hair.  A gold ring piercing through one pebbled, hardened nub; a beckoning flash of light drawing his mouth and urging him to taste.

Blair moaned when a warm mouth settled over his nipple; the moan turned to an outright groan when the tip of Jim's facile tongue slipped over and around and through the ring he wore there.  Teeth closed tenderly around the metal ring and tugged gently, pulling it against the tiny hard bud.  Sensation rocked through him, his body quivering and arching toward the mouth, his cock surging in his pants.

"Jim!  Nooo…too much…oh god…!"

The teeth tugged again, gently, and he was lost, his body spasming as his seed was released, warmth and wetness flowing outward.  He shook in Jim's arms, soft, hoarse cries carrying on the breeze, mixing with the other sounds of night.

Night music.  Primal urges calling.  Mates chosen.

Then he was being pressed backward, his body settled against the warm, rich earth and his pants unfastened and tugged down.  Obediently he lifted his hips, helping Jim get the troublesome clothing off, shivering when the air flowed over his damp, sticky genitals.

"Cold, baby?"  Jim smiled at him, eyes hot and burning, before lowering his head to warm him.  Blair arched and threw his head back, basking in the touch, the heat, the *rightness* of this.

"Not…now," he groaned as Jim's mouth and nose traveled over him, tasting, smelling, touching.  "More, Jim.  Pleeease--ahh!" he groaned again, arching harder toward the mouth that was teasing him.

Jim grinned against the warm skin of his lover.  This was where he wanted to be…to stay.  This was where life began, was, and ended.  He laid his head on Blair's thigh, feeling and hearing the thud of the younger man's pulse through the femoral artery.  He closed his eyes for a minute and let an image form in his mind of what the sound would *look* like; an erotic beat, two people moving together as one.  He shuddered and opened his eyes, then nosed his way through the thick, damp pubic curls, inhaling deeply the scent of his mate's seed.  The viscous, sticky fluid liberally coated everything and Jim's mouth watered to taste it, to feel it.  He ran a finger across Blair's cock, smiling when the flaccid organ twitched, then sucked his finger into his mouth, rolling the taste around over his tongue.  The earthy flavor filled him and he shuddered, lowering his head to lick and suck all remains off of Blair; needing to fill his senses completely with the taste of his mate.

When Blair's cock was clean and standing at full attention once again, and the younger man was writhing and quivering, Jim stood and shoved his pants the rest of the way down.  In  the firelight he appeared as some primitive, god-like being; hair haloed by the backdrop of flames, muscled body taut and shining with sweat.  He knelt between the spread legs of his lover and smiled at him, reaching for a small container he'd unobtrusively placed near the fire earlier in the evening.

Warm, clean-smelling oil, rendered and preserved by the Chopec.  He scooped some onto his fingers, coating them generously before drizzling some down teasingly over Blair's cock.  The younger man moaned at the light touch, shuddering as Jim parted his thighs and caressed the tiny pucker he found there.

"You're so beautiful, Blair," he whispered as his oil-slicked finger coated the small opening.  "You're as wild and primal as this jungle…meant to be a part of it…to be a part of me."  He slid his finger inside, breaching the muscle, causing a hard shudder to rip through the smaller man.  His eyes caught Blair's, held them as he moved the finger deeper into the warm body.  "Are you a part of me, Blair?  Are you mine?"

Dark blue eyes met blue eyes darkened with desire and love.  "I'm yours…" he whispered,  his hips moving, searching.  "And you're mine.  A part of me."

"Yes…" Jim pressed against the opening with a second slicked finger, feeling Blair's shudders to his core as both slid in now.  "My mate...my love...mine."

A third finger was pressed against the rosebud that was opening for him and Jim shuddered thinking about this heat surrounding him.  Blair's hips were pressing up against him, moving faster, and the younger man had his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking in time to Jim's finger thrusts.

"Do it," Blair whispered, his eyes hot blue coals burning into Jim's soul.  "Do it…love me…fuck me…claim me! I'm yours…make it for all time!"

The hunger swelled up in Jim, overpowering him, controlling him.  He shifted himself and pressed his angry, swollen cock to the budded entrance, felt it blossom and open fully for him when Blair pushed against him.  He slid in, low growls rising from his throat and echoing around the clearing. 

Tight and hot…so hot.  Searing heat, moving through him, around him, burning him.  He thrust into the willing body beneath him, then slid out and back in with long, smooth, slow strokes.  Hard thrust, long strokes.  Over and over, Blair's cries and groans rising to fill his ears, his head, his being.  Two hearts beating now as one; two souls joined to create one whole; two bodies separated, now melded as one.  He gasped and moaned as Blair rocked under him, meeting his thrusts, creating new ones.

Blair cried out when Jim entered him, knowing why everything before this had seemed not quite right, not fulfilling.  *This* was what he'd been waiting for; *who* he'd been waiting for.  Jim was his…his mate, his destiny.  Heat and light and sensation began swirling through him as he was first claimed and possessed, then the claimer and the possessor.  His body moved quickly in time with Jim's and the feelings rose up harder, hotter, more hungry than before, pushing them toward the abyss.

"Yours, Jim," he cried out, as one long, hot thrust seared into him, pushing him over.  "Love you!" he managed then as his own release bubbled out of him, scalding him with the heat of its intensity, the heat of his love for this man.

"Yes…yes, Blair…mine…and yours…together…" Jim grunted as Blair tightened around him in the throes of orgasm, grasping his cock tightly and drawing him further into his mate.  He felt the primal need race through him and thrust again harder, the growl being dredged up from his soul as his body spasmed, flooding Blair with his hot seed. 

His triumphant roar echoed around the clearing, moving on the wind through the jungle, fading into just another night sound, another predator claiming a mate for his own.

Night music.  Primal urges answered.  Mates claimed.  Destinies fulfilled as a panther embraced a hawk and took him for his own.

****************************

They made love a second time as the moon was waning and dawn was breaking.  Heat and passion gave way to gentle and tender the way the night gave over to the day.  Afterward they slept for a time, wrapped in each other, curled beside the fire that Jim had fed just before they lost themselves in each other once again.

Jim woke no more than a few hours past sunrise; a strange, insistent chirping filling his ears, pounding at his head.  He shifted Sandburg off of him so he could sit up and look around and wasn't very surprised to see Incacha crouched by a small clump of brush at the edge of the clearing.

Blair protested sleepily when he moved him all the way off; the younger man was still drowsy and Jim smoothed a hand down warm, rough skin soothing him with a whisper.

"Shhh, baby.  I'll be right back.  Sleep, Blair.  You're safe here."  He was sound asleep again before Jim had crossed the clearing.

*****************************

**Enqueri.  You have found what you were seeking.**

It wasn't a question, but Jim answered it as one anyway.  **Yes, he is my mate.**  He cast a quizzical glance at the shaman.  **How did you know, if I didn't even know?**

**Enqueri, the ways of the spirits and the guides are not always known to us, but there was a reason you were left here with us in the jungles; a reason that your leaders and chiefs have not returned yet to claim you.  There is also a reason that that young man was led to you, for you to find.**  The shaman shook his head, holding a hand up to forestall Jim's questions.  **I do not know what these reasons are, but it is obvious that you are meant for one another, meant to be together.  The gods and spirits have favored you mightily to give you such a mate and reveal him so easily.  Beware though, my friend, for the gifts of the gods are not meant to be easy things; what was easily claimed may prove difficult to hold on to.**

The wise brown eyes bored into his, staring into his soul.  Jim always felt a little uneasy when Incacha stared at him like this; it make him uncomfortable, he felt more than naked; he felt exposed.

**Thank you for the words, my friend.  I will listen and try to heed them.**

**One more thing,** Incacha said quietly.  **You must mark him as yours, Enqueri.  Put your mark on him,** the shaman pointed to the tattoo-like mark that Jim wore above his left nipple, **and give him his own.  The two entwined together will proclaim him as your mate, marked as yours.  Do this soon, my friend, so you have the power and the protection of the gods, lest you be separated.**

Jim nodded solemnly at the shaman. **Thank you, my friend, for taking time to see me for this.**

Incacha smiled at him.  **To see you look so peaceful, so calm, I would do much, much more than the little I have.**

****************************

Blair was stirring even as he crossed the clearing again.  Jim smiled when those beautiful, brilliantly blue eyes opened and looked him, so full of radiance, of love, he felt his breath catch in his chest.

"You must be the most exotic creature on earth," he said, before he could stop the words, blushing when he realized what he'd said.

Blair grinned at him.  "I sure felt like it last night.  C'mere."  He patted the ground next to himself and Jim dropped to sit, a lazy, graceful movement.  The younger man studied him for a moment, then leaned in to kiss him, the full, lush mouth warm against Jim's.  Their mouths tasted and explored for long, sweet minutes, then Blair drew away, smoothing his fingers over Jim's face, casually touching the warm planes.

Jim gathered him into his arms, mindful of the fact that the sun was coming up hot and they were both still naked, no protection from the rays.  He stroked silky curls that were a little damp and sticky from the moisture in the air and night's exertions.

"I love you, Blair.  I've never said that to anyone, before…not sure I've ever felt it before.  But you have a power…a power over me…that I can't deny.  I don't want to deny."

"I feel it too," Blair nodded, his fingers entwining with Jim's own.  "I love you…I think I've always loved you.  I've spent most all of my life *knowing* I had to come down here…now.  It used to be like, 'oh, yeah, I have to go to Peru someday', but then the urge became almost a compulsion…and then I found out that the university was sponsoring a trip, and…"  the younger man trailed off, looking up and slightly back to look at his lover.  "I just *had* to be here," he finished softly.  "There was no choice in the matter."

"I'm glad," Jim returned just as softly, his fingers tightening in the younger man's curls.  "I've had…feelings, I guess…for a while now, as well. I sensed your coming, the day we met." He grinned self-deprecatingly at Blair's raised eyebrow.  "Yeah, I don't usually get into the mystical and whatnot, but it was almost like…something was off-kilter.  I don't know how else to describe it. I sensed it, and the village Shaman and the healer noticed it as well. Almost like a disturbance in the air. Weird, huh."

Blair shook his head and leaned in to nuzzle at the smooth skin of Jim's chest, teasing his nose gently over the sensitive nubs.  "I don't think so at all," he whispered, just before lapping at the hard little peaks.  "Stranger things have been happened, y'know."  Then he gave up talking, concentrating instead on wringing cry after moan after groan out of the older man as he licked over and around the tiny little bud.  He gently pushed Jim backward, following the larger body to straddle him on all fours, his mouth still working the older man's nipples.  A gentle scoring with his teeth had Ellison crying aloud and arching toward the hungry mouth that was tormenting him so sweetly.  Blair looked up and grinned.  "You like that."  It was a statement, not a question.

"V..very much," Jim groaned, his groan turning to a keening cry when Blair bit down a little harder, then suckled strongly, tongue weaving and laving over the now-throbbing peak.

"You taste soooo good," Blair purred, his mouth moving now, licking and tasting the valley between the hard pecs, teeth scraping gently over the tanned, muscled  flesh.  "I could feast on you forever, lover."

"Sounds g..good to me." Ellison shuddered as the hot sucking mouth moved to claim his other nipple.  "Ohhhh, god, baby…suck me. Suck my tit, Blair…" he shuddered again when Blair did just that, sucking the erect, pulsing bit of flesh into his mouth and holding it there while he swirled his tongue round and round it.

"Love you, Jim," the soft voice of his lover moaned from around his nipple.  Then the mouth was moving, moving on to taste the rest of him. A wet tongue, warm and slick, stroked over his chest, moving downward over his ribs, then danced across his abdomen.  His belly was tasted and explored; his navel was treated to a thorough bathing and tickling by the facile tongue that was bent on learning every inch of him.

"Oh, god," he moaned when Blair first poked his tongue into his sensitive belly-button, wriggling it around there, stroking gently in and out. At first it tickled, then became erotic as he realized what his young lover was doing; mimicking fucking with those slick, shallow little motions.  He shuddered hard, his body taut with desire, streaming with sweat and saliva.  "Please…" he begged, not sure what he was begging for. More? Surcease? Both?  He shook his head and groaned louder when Blair nipped lightly at the rim of his navel, then traced with his tongue the line of dark-blond hair that trailed from there to his pubic bush.

"Please what, lover? Please more? Like this?" Blair's wickedly talented tongue teased lightly over the crown of his drooling shaft, lapping up the drops of liquid that were gathering there.  Jim looked down at the same time Blair looked up at him, one near-translucent drop of moisture caught on his lip.  The younger man extended his tongue and licked the drop up before it fell and Jim felt his groin tighten just by watching that erotic moment.  "Or maybe like this," Sandburg continued, his mouth moving now over the hard, throbbing shaft of Jim's cock.  He continued downward, mouthing and licking the straining organ, following it to the root then taking each of the heavy, tight balls into his mouth, sucking and massaging them.

"God, that's good," the older man managed to groan, splaying his legs open wide as his lover shifted between them, sucking and licking at his balls.  He opened his legs further when Blair nudged at his thighs, then pulled his breath in in a huge sucking gasp when he felt that incredible tongue brush over his opening.  "Ohmygod…" was the only thing he could say that made any sense. Blair's mouth was warm, wet, intensely pleasurable.  No one had ever rimmed him before. He'd done it, many times, but no one else had ever tasted him this intimately.  He shuddered, hard, then reached downward to hold himself open for Blair, for the questing tongue that was quickly reducing him to nothing but a molten puddle of  goo.

Blair shivered when he realized that Jim was holding himself open for him.  He clasped his hands over his lover's, then tickled his tongue gently around the ridged skin of Jim's opening.  He probed gently with the tip of his tongue, felt the muscle resist, and pushed a little harder.  The tiny rosette bloomed for him, just a little, revealing the first taste of this most intimate part of his lover's body.  He worked more saliva up in his mouth and ran his tongue over and over the small pucker, making love to Jim gently, sensing from the moans rising up and the jerking motions the hard body was making that this was the first time anyone had tasted him here.  He shook his head and placed a hard, sucking kiss over the puckered pink hole, then pushed his tongue in again, smiling when the muscle relaxed and let him in further.  A loud, deep groan echoed around the clearing as the ring of muscle was breached slickly, and Jim shuddered hard beneath him.  Blair drew back in concern, frowning up at the older man.

"You okay, lover?"

"God…y..yes, I…yeah… Jesus Christ, Blair…" Jim was panting hard, his whole body straining. "Please…don't stop, baby…anything, just don't stop…"

Blair smiled and nipped lightly at the soft skin on the inside of Jim's thigh, then turned his attention back to the exposed, throbbing opening.  He leaned down and licked, slowly and sensuously, from the shadowy area beneath Jim's balls to the end of his crease; he bit the fleshy part of the asscheek there, then licked back, pausing to swirl his tongue over and around the somewhat loosened pucker.  "You're beautiful, Jim," he muttered hoarsely as he paused again to look at his lover.  He rubbed a thumb gently over the small hole and felt Jim's shiver clear into his soul.  "Have you ever…?"  He raised his eyes to meet the older man's.

"Yes," he responded breathlessly, "a few times.  Not often, but I'm not a virgin."

"Will you let me?"  Blair's breath caressed the straining cock and balls, sent shivers flowing through Ellison's body.

"Yesssss."  It was a hoarse whisper, more of a hiss than a word, but Blair felt his body contract from hearing it.  "We belong together," Jim continued.  "Me into you, you into me. Do it, baby. Love me."

Blair groaned and reached for the oil that still sitting in its little pot near the fire.  It was warm, but not overly so. He dipped his fingers into it and smoothed them over Jim's opening, teasing at it with the tip of one finger, then nudging at it with a knuckle.  "You're tight,"  he muttered as he opened the little rose with the end of his index finger.  "I don't want to hurt you."

Jim moaned when the first finger gained entry; his belly tightened as his body spasmed, clenching around the invader.  "A little…little pain doesn't…bother me," he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut tight as Blair slowly thrust the finger back and forth.  God, it felt good!  He opened his eyes back up. "I want you, Blair.  Make love to me."

"Easy, big guy.  A little pain is one thing; unopened pain is something else."  Blair shivered with the memory of the one time he'd pressed Curtis into taking him without prepping him first.  His mouth slid over the hot skin of Jim's thigh as he slowly moved his finger in and out, feeling the large body relaxing around him.  He bit Jim just next to his knee as he slid a second finger in, then sucked hard on the bite, giving the older man a focus as he stretched him a little further.  Jim wriggled beneath him, moving his hips slowly, undulating in time with Blair's fingers, moaning as the hot mouth tasted and teased him further.  Blair added a third finger, fucking them a little faster into the body that was moving and shifting beneath his.  "Bear down, lover," he whispered against the hot skin.  "Let's see how ready you are."

Jim grunted and pushed and Blair felt the hot slick channel relax and open for him.  He thrust gently several times with his fingers, then slid them out, his eyes hot when they met Jim's.  "Oh yeah, lover…you're ready for me, aren't you?"  He reached for the oil again, coating himself generously, drizzling more over the loosened, open pucker.

"Yesss," Jim moaned, his eyes hot and wild. "Want you, Blair. Want you inside me."

"I'm coming, lover. Take it easy."  Blair slid himself up the larger body, then grasped both of Jim's hands and pinned them over his head as his mouth found and took the older man's.  He licked across warm, moist lips, then parted them with his tongue, tasting the interior of his lover.  Jim's mouth was sweet and hot, his tongue slick as he rubbed it sensuously against Blair's.  They played together, chasing and teasing, from one's mouth to the other's, for long, hot minutes, their bodies straining together.  Blair left Jim's mouth and licked and kissed over to his ear where he rimmed the edge as he whispered, "I want you, Jim Ellison. I'm going to take you--gonna love you until you don't remember anything or anyone but me."  Then he gently bit the soft skin just below Jim's ear, feeling as much as hearing the older man's groaning answer.

Jim raised his legs and hooked them over Blair's shoulders as the smaller man knelt between them, carefully pressing himself against the rosy little hole.  He pushed slowly and felt his cockhead breach the muscle at the same time a huge shudder ripped through Ellison.  He heard the groan, felt it deep inside him, and held still, waiting for his lover to adjust to him.  When the tense body surrounding him relaxed fractionally he pushed a little further, then stilled, waiting again for Jim to adjust.  He could feel the hot, tight tunnel throbbing around him, holding him close.  Jim opened his eyes and Blair looked into the hot, dark depths of blue and found the other part of his soul there, staring back at him. He shuddered and pressed the rest of the way in, hearing Jim's groans of desire and pleasure and a little pain ringing in his ears, but needing to be fully inside, pressed as close as possible to this man, his lover, his mate.

Time stopped for them, outside of their bodies and their loving.  Jim could feel each slick movement of Blair within him; could feel the heat and throbbing pulse of his lover's cock as it slid back into his tight sheath.  He tightened himself around the smaller man's cock and smiled ferally when the his lover groaned his pleasure.  His own cock throbbed harshly in time to the pounding of his heart and he found himself stroking in rhythm with Blair's thrusts.  There was no past or future, nor even really a present--there was only *right* *now*, this moment as one man pounded into another, their loving fierce and hot and complete.

"Mine," Blair growled, bending his head to nip at soft lips.  "Say it, Jim.  Say who you belong to."

"Yours, Blair. I belong to you…your heart, your soul.  Ohhhh, god…" he groaned loudly when Blair thrust hard into him, forcing another cry of pleasure from him.

"That's right," the younger man hissed fiercely.  "You're mine just as I'm yours. Mates, Jim…I've waited my whole life for you…found you…claimed you.  Forever, lover.  We belong to each other for as long as time exists."  He thrust harder and faster, feeling the punishing force of his strokes, hearing Jim's groans and cries of welcome as he moved within him.

"Do it, Blair," Jim hissed in return, pushing himself upward to meet those thrusts. "Fuck me…claim me…I made you mine last night; do it now, baby, make me yours."

"Yes…yes…" the student panted, his whole body beginning to throb as his need for release increased.  He wanted to come deep inside this hot, straining body; wanted to mark Jim, mark his territory.  He thrust over and over, moving hard and faster, pounding into his lover.  Jim kept his pace with his hand on his cock, matching Blair stroke for stroke.  He closed his eyes as the heat moved over him, panting harshly when he felt his seed rising within him.  He tightened his hand on his cock and jacked faster, his body beginning to shudder.

"B..Blair…n..now, baby…now…" he threw his head back and screamed, his cock pulsing in his hand as his seed arced upward to spatter on his chest, oozing over his hand.  His body spasmed tightly around the cock that was invading him, loving him, fucking him, and he squeezed hard, milking it as he milked himself.  He groaned long and low when he felt the hot fluid pouring into him in heated bursts as Blair exploded within him, marking him.

"Yeah, that's it…" the younger man panted, thrusting and holding, thrusting and holding, pushing as deep inside as he could, feeling his cream coating the hot channel he was moving in.  "God, I love you, Jim," he groaned as he gave one last, mighty thrust before collapsing forward onto the man beneath him.

Shaking arms came up to cradle him close, holding him against the heaving body. "I love you," a hoarse voice murmured into his ear as warm lips caresses the sensitive skin there.  "Mine, Blair. I love you more than life itself."

***************************

They laid there for a time, breathing still hard and fast as their bodies slowly cooled and relaxed.  Jim rolled Blair off him, finally, and stood up, holding a hand down to the younger man.  "We need to get out of the sun if we're gonna stay naked. The sun's too strong right now to stay out in it like this."  He gestured with a grin and Blair grinned back.

"I need to wash up," the younger man told him with a grimace as they walked back to the small hut.  "I'm like, so gross, man.  No offense," he grinned.  "But bodily fluids aside, I'm sweaty, and while I can handle the other,  I hate that."

Jim threw his head back and laughed.  "You can handle being streaked and sticky from come, but not from sweat?"

Blair smiled. "Hey, we all pick what we're comfortable with, man. I don't mind the former; I hate the latter.  Deal with it."

Ellison shook his head. "You want to wash up here, or you want to go swimming?"

Smoky-blue eyes brightened in anticipation. "Swimming sounds really cool, man.  Unless we're talking about some river with alligators and such as swimming partners."  The eyes darkened, until Jim realized that Blair was teasing.

"Well, I *wasn't*, but if that's what you want--"

"No way, man. You got a nice, safe swimming hole somewhere, bring it on. Otherwise I'll do the sponge-bath thing."

"Chicken-shit."

  

  1. I have *no* desire to end out my life as a reptilian entrée. I came entirely too close too recently."
  



Jim shuddered with the memory and pulled his pants on.  "I agree.  Yeah, I got a swimming hole not far from here." He eyed his younger lover speculatively.  "You up for a little bit of a hike?"

"What's a little bit mean?"

"Less than a mile. Not sure exactly how far."

"No problem, man." Blair pulled his own jeans on, then tugged his T-shirt down over his head.  His eyes were bright when he looked at Jim.  "I meant it, you know. As long as time exists."

Blue eyes met his. "I know," Jim answered hoarsely. "I feel the same way."  How in the hell he was going to find the strength to take this man back to his own camp, and leave him there… Shit he might as well just shoot himself now and get it over with.  He frowned, then looked back up at Blair when a gentle hand settled on his arm.

"I know, man," was the soft comment.  "I know where you are, and I'm there with you, lover.  I don't want to go, either."

Jim pulled the smaller body tight against his. "I don't know if I *can*," he said gruffly.  "I know I have to, but god help me, Blair, I don't know if I'll be able to let you go.  I don't have any idea when--or if!--I'll be discovered down here…or when I'll get a chance to contact you, once I'm  home…and, god, baby…I'm a fucking *Captain* in the fucking United States Army.  It's what I've always wanted…what I've always done, Blair.  But that isn't compatible with us…I've never had a relationship with another man where I cared really if I could be seen with him…but now…Jesus."  He shook, feeling the smaller body within his arms shaking with him.

"I know, Jim," the quiet voice soothed in his ear. "I know, lover.  It's okay…we'll figure something out.  Take it easy, Jim…shhhh…" Blair shifted his arms so that he was the one holding, and began to sway gently, rocking them, trying to calm the bigger man somewhat.

After some time of just standing there, swaying and rocking, Jim loosened Blair's grip on him and stepped back a pace.  "I'm sorry," he muttered, running a hand over his face in embarrassment.  "I didn't mean to lose it like that."

"It's okay, man.  I'm hanging on the edge myself right now." He shot a look at  Ellison.  "It would be awfully easy to forget all outside commitments, just kind of stay here in this private little place…but that's not me…and I know that's not you. You don't get to be a captain by shirking your duties."  He reached a hand out to rub at the tense muscle of Jim's arm.  "I don't think we could live with ourselves if we gave up everything that makes us *us* just to be together. Could we?" Dark blue eyes, earnest and searching, met Jim's and the older man shook his head and gave a half-smile.

"No, we couldn't."  He shook his head again, then gave Blair a real, if rather sad, smile. "Still want to go swimming?"

"Yeah, I do." The student searched Jim's eyes for a minute long, then he smiled as well.  "Let's go before some reptile finds your swimming hole. With my luck, it'd happen today."

"Not in *my* swimming hole."

"Uh-huh."

Two pairs of blue eyes met, both acknowledging that the topic wasn't closed yet, merely being pushed back a little until they were better able to deal with it.  Just taking a breather.

***************************

"Hey, man…not bad."  Blair eyed the small, quiet pool and the tiny waterfall that fed it and grinned.  "A natural shower, even. Not too shabby, Jim."

The older man laughed as he peeled off his clothes, making a face at the stickiness in his groin.  "I like to offer my guests deluxe accommodations, Sandburg."

"So how come I didn't get to see this place before today?"

"What, you think you were ready for a trek through the jungle before today?"  The bigger man leveled a glance at his lover and grinned.  "Or have you been holding out on me about those ribs?"  To his surprise Blair actually blushed a little, then looked down. He reached a gentle hand out to grasp the younger man's chin and tilted it upward.  "Blair? It's okay, baby. I understand."

"I wasn't really holding out, Jim," he hastened to say, shivering a little. "I just…maybe made them seem a little worse than they were…" Blair sighed.  "I just wanted a little more time with you, man. I *knew* there was something between us…and I knew it wasn't going to happen until the moment was right. And I couldn't stand the thought of leaving before it had the chance."

Ellison pulled the young man into his arms, squeezing him.  "I *know*, baby,"  he breathed.  "I didn't want you to go either, so I just let it be…" he nuzzled Blair's ear, then licked it gently, running his tongue over the edge.  A small shiver of a different sort told him that this was a good spot for his lover.  He smiled and dipped the tip of his tongue into the small canal, moving it in and out suggestively.  Blair shivered again, harder this time, and he felt hardness and heat against his leg.  "You like that, don't you? Insatiable little thing, aren't you?"  Jim bit down on the earlobe, tugging gently at the silver hoops there, then reached down to squeeze the cock that was throbbing against his leg.  He smiled into Blair's hot eyes and moved back to finish taking his clothes off.

Blair watched him for a minute, then began pushing his own pants down. "Cocktease," he grinned at the older man. "Get me all hot and bothered and then don't deliver."

"Mouthy little shit, aren't you?"  Ellison grinned back.  "Who's to say I'm not gonna take care of that?" he gestured toward the erection standing out proudly from Blair's naked body.

"Well then why'd you move away?"

"So I could get my pants off," Jim grunted as he pushed the tight fitting camos the rest of the way down, exposing his own straining hard-on to Blair's eyes.  "And since you're a cocktease yourself, you'd best stop flinging stones."

The smaller man gaped indignantly. "*I'm* a cocktease? How do you figure?"

Jim grinned. "You're standing there breathing, aren't you?"

Blair smirked. "Yeah, right, man. As if my breathing is teasing you."  He bent down to pick up his jeans and got grabbed from behind and swiveled around abruptly.

"Well *aside* from breathing, it's moves like that  that get you branded 'cocktease', Sandburg.  Bending over, flaunting this luscious ass," large hands cupped his cheeks and squeezed and Blair moaned and pushed back against them.  "And then there's these…" The hands smoothed up his back and around to tug and pinch gently at half-hardened nipples.  "These little tits of yours are just begging to be sucked and licked, baby.  Oh yeah, you *like* that, don't you?"  Jim grinned as Blair sighed and shuddered when he tugged again on the nipple ring.  "Handy, this." He fingered the ring gently, smiling heatedly when Blair's breathy moans grew louder.  "Come on, baby. Let's get in the water."  He took the younger man's hand and led him into the pool, to stand beneath the waterfall.

They stood under the cool spill of water, mouths fused together, generating kilowatts of heat.  Tongues tangled and mated, teasing the other with soft, slick caresses.  Their hands stroked and played and tickled and pinched.  Their cocks rode the other's belly as they moved against each other, rubbing with sensual, rapid motions. Juices oozed from the hot,  hardened cocks and combined with the water flowing over them to ease the way, enhance the glide.  Jim cupped Blair's ass and squeezed, his fingers dipping sweetly into the shadowy crease between cheeks and stroking over the tender, pulsing opening there.  Blair leaned his head in and bit gently at the erect, aching nubs jutting from Ellison's chest.  He worried each bud with his teeth, then soothed with his tongue, until the older man was groaning loudly, rubbing more frantically against him.  They joined themselves at the mouth again, tasting, licking and nipping as their bodies shuddered together, juices mixing on their stomachs, running together, creating a shower of passion to be washed away by the natural shower flowing over them.

Afterward they swam lazily, reconnecting every so often to kiss, or stroke or caress. Not to arouse, but to soothe, to comfort.  Jim gathered Blair into his arms and floated them on their backs, with Blair pressed against his chest.  He stroked the younger man's chest, loving the silky hair that clung wetly to his fingers.  Blair leaned his head back, sighing contentedly at the gentle caresses, smiling when Jim's partially-erect organ nudged him.

"Again?"

"I doubt it," Blair could hear the smile in Jim's voice.  "It's just that my cock doesn't always know when it's licked."

"It knew well enough last night."  The younger man couldn't stop the comment and that earned him a quick squeeze against sensitive nipples. "Ow!"

"That'll teach you, Mr. Smart-mouth."

"Don't count on it." Blair shifted slightly so that his legs draped to either side of Jim's, giving the older man's swelling dick room to rub.  He felt his own tingling and reached a hand down to stroke gently.

"Mmmm.  Maybe I'll have to beat you; teach you some respect for your elders."  Jim paused, then continued, "How old are you, anyway?"

Blair sighed mentally.  "How old do you think I am?" he asked neutrally, hoping Jim would guess like twenty-five.  No such luck.  He felt his lover stiffen under him, his arms tightening.

"Just tell me you're legal, Sandburg. Jesus Christ, please tell me I haven't been--" he broke off, unable to finish the sentence.

"I'm legal, Jim." The words were quiet, offered seriously and sincerely.  "I turned twenty last month, just before coming down here."

"Oh, god, Blair." The voice was hoarse in his ear.  "I'll…I'll be thirty-two next month, baby."  The arms tightened around him again. "That's a hell of an age difference, as young as you are.  Christ."

"Jim!"  Blair shifted and turned in his lover's arms, pinned his eyes with his own.  "Stop it, okay? I'm legal, I'm an adult, and I know what I want.  I want you. I don't care if you're 32, or 42, or 72! I *love* you, man!"

Jim pulled him close and buried his face in wet curls that smelled like Sandburg.  Spicy, fresh, clean, exotic.  "I love you, too," he muttered.  "But god, you're so young…*so* young…"

"You didn't think I was so young when I was fucking you senseless this morning," Blair retorted, his eyes blazing hot.  "Or last night when you were taking me with equal enthusiasm.  Come on, Jim--what's up here?"

"I didn't know," Ellison responded hoarsely, not meeting Blair's eyes. "I didn't know, then."

"Would it have made a difference? Does it *really*, now? Jim…we're *meant* to be, man. Soul-mates, bonded together.  C'mon…talk to me."

Ellison took a deep breath and raised his head to look into his lover's eyes.  "It's a surprise,"  he said quietly.  "You act so much…older, I guess…it's a shock to hear it for real."

"I've heard that before," Blair muttered.

"I'm sure.  And you have…experience…for someone so young…" Jim's face flushed and he averted his eyes again.  "I can't believe I just said that," he muttered. "Talk about judgmental.  I'm sorry, Blair."

"No, it's okay…but I'm curious. Do you  mean personal, sexual, what?"

"All of it, I guess. You seem awfully sure of yourself for…y'know.  Like you've been around a while longer."

"How old did you think I was? Assuming you really gave it any thought."

"I don't know…mid-20s, I guess.  I hadn't really thought about it. I mean, I was calling you 'kid' and all…but I knew you were younger than me…and well, I mean you are…" Jim sighed.

Blair smiled.  "Well…I do have a lot of experience, as far as life goes, I guess. Mom moved us around a lot…I've lived in a *lot* of places, both here and abroad.  I started college when I was 16, only part-time then, 'cause I was still finishing up high school stuff, but I was full time that next semester…and I took full loads so I could take as much as possible…" Sandburg paused a moment, then leaned down to brush Jim's mouth with his.  "I've only had one male lover, besides you, I mean…and not many women, but I was exclusive with Curtis, and we were together for eight months--"

"In eight months you learned--Jesus, Sandburg!"  Jim's mind reeled thinking about the accomplished, seductive young man he'd had last night and who'd had him today.

The dark blue eyes twinkled at him. "I don't have many 'forbidden zones'," he teased, then sobered.  "Seriously, there isn't much that I won't try, at least once, and Curtis took that and ran with it.  'Uninhibited', he called me." Blair shrugged. "Whatever, it just means that I like sex…and once I figured out what I was doing, I kind of took to it like a duck to water."

"*I'll* say," was the quiet mutter. Sandburg's grin grew wider.

"I'll take that as the compliment I'm sure it was intended to be."

Jim was quiet then and Blair turned back over in his arms, holding those arms close around him, letting him be pulled along in the gentle drift around the small pool.  He closed his eyes and let himself relax, knowing Jim wouldn't let him fall or drown.  He was nearly asleep when a low, warm voice rumbled in his ear, "What's one of your forbidden zones?"

He started awake, his mind buzzing. "Huh?"

"You said you don't have many forbidden zones. What would be one?"

"Oh." He considered the question. "Well…pain. I mean *pain* pain. Y'know? I like bites and pinches…I don't mind spankings--I think." He wiggled his ass against Jim and felt the other man's cock respond.  "But I'm not into the heavy shit, y'know? It doesn't sound like much fun.  I mean, I suppose it might be…but it doesn't appeal to me."

"What about this?" Jim tugged gently on the ring through Blair's nipple that so fascinated him.

"Oh, well, yeah, that hurt to do it…but that's a whole different kind of pain.  And it wasn't something I was going to do over and over again." He tilted his head and smiled at the older man.  "I don't know how to explain it, man.  I'm just not into that."

"Okay. What else?"

"What else, what?"

"What else do you like…or what else is a forbidden zone?"  Jim smiled. "You're uninhibited, it's good to know what my parameters are."

Blair shivered at the heat in his lover's voice and wiggled harder against the cock that was poking him again.  His voice was lower, huskier, when he replied.  "I don't get the idea of people who combine sex and body waste. I mean, I suppose I can see golden showers…maybe…but the rest of it…" his voice trailed off, and he shuddered.  He felt an answering shudder beneath him. "I take it we're in accordance with that?" he asked dryly.

"Oh, yeah."

Blair smiled at Jim's heartfelt answer.  "How 'bout you, lover? What are some of your parameters?"

Jim felt his stomach twitch at the way Blair stressed 'parameters'.  "Well…I'm not into pain, either. Not heavy-duty, anyway," he teased, pinching Blair's butt and laughing when the younger man yelped and squirmed against him.  "I do like to play in bed--y'know, teasing and laughing. Sex should be fun."

"Well, *duh*," Blair said. "What else would it be?"

"You'd be surprised, baby. There's people out there who…well, shit."  Jim paused for a minute.  "When I say I like to play and that it should be fun, I don't mean that I don't take it seriously. But there's some people who are way too hung up on being serious in bed. That's no fun.  Um…lessee.  Necrophilia."

Blair snickered. "Into, or against?"

That earned him another pinch and a tickle while Jim sputtered, then laughed. "Against, you little shit!"

"I know…" the younger man sputtered himself, trying not to drown while they were both laughing so hard.  "Seriously, though.  Are there any definite zones to stay away from, that we haven't covered? Or anything you like in particular, that I should know about?"

Jim smiled. "We seem to be pretty compatible as far as dislikes, anyway…and as far as likes go…well, I wouldn't be averse to spanking…I like sex toys on occasion…"

"And you like be rimmed," the younger man added very quietly, remembering earlier in the morning.  He felt a definite stirring against his bottom as Jim processed the memory as well.

"God, *yes*," the older man breathed.  "Damn, that was…" he shuddered and Blair grinned.

"Well, let's see about compatibility here.  *I* like blow jobs…rimming…sex toys on occasion, too…" the younger man smiled when Jim's cock throbbed harder against him, and wiggled so that it was nudging his opening.  "Guess we're pretty compatible," he said huskily.

"You're sure you're only twenty? You seem to know a lot about sex for such a stripling." Jim's voice was breathless now, the pitch a lot lower.

"Stripling, huh?"  Blair pushed back gently, moaning softly when the hard cock breached him, gaining entrance.  "I…read a lot…" he panted, his body throbbing.

"God, Blair…" it was more of a moan than actual words, but Blair got the message.

He turned very slowly, shifting, to face the older man, wrapping his legs tightly around Jim's waist.  Once they'd both gotten balance, Blair began rocking, pulling them together, slowly pushing his lover's cock deeper into his body.  Jim leaned in and softly covered the younger man's mouth with his own, tasting and exploring  that warm haven over and over again.  He moaned softly when Blair tightened his muscles and shifted so that they fit together even better.  Their bodies moved languidly, a slow, easy rhythm that didn't demand too much, just felt good.  Arms held each other close as they drifted in the water, loving one another gently, bodies joined as fully and completely as they could manage.

Urgency built in them eventually, and Jim carried Blair, still joined, to the shore of the small pond where he laid him down and thrust repeatedly into him, crying out loud as the younger man tightened around him.  "Come for me," he whispered into Blair's ear, then thrust in hard and deep, touching his cock against the small gland hidden inside his lover, setting off a chain-reaction that began with a shudder and ended with a liquid fire-storm raining upon both of them.

He shook and shuddered through his own climax, triggered as it was by the incredible pleasure of being inside the sensuous body combined with the intense sensations of being clutched and squeezed by that body in the throes of orgasm.

Afterward they lay together, their bodies still partially entwined.  Both were quiet and thoughtful, but Jim knew he needed to introduce this subject if it were going to be taken care of today.  And he felt as if he didn't have much time to wait. Things had to be taken care of *now*.

"We had a visitor this morning," he began awkwardly, not sure what exactly to say.  Yes, he loved this man. He was loved by the same man.  But loving and agreeing to being marked for life? That might take longer.  Then his eyes fell to the face staring up at him.

"A visitor."  Blair repeated the words, his eyes watching Jim's.  "Who?"

"A--friend," Jim said cautiously.  "The shaman of the Chopec, actually."

"I see.  And what did your friend want?"  The younger man wasn't sure what Jim was trying to get at, but he was willing to give him some space to work it out.

"He congratulated me--us--on finding each other.  Recognized that we're mates…"  He trailed off and found himself tracing a circular pattern on the warm skin just above Blair's left nipple.  The smaller man shivered and the nipple tightened in reaction. Jim smiled and leaned down to kiss the small puckered bud.  "Seems you have quite a trigger there, Junior."

Blair moaned quietly, and shivered again. "You," he managed.  "I've never been like *this* before."

Jim gave the golden ring there a tiny tug, then released his lover. "Sorry," he apologized with smiling eyes.  "You're almost too sexy for your own good, you know? I'd keep you here forever, if I could. Naked, warm, your eyes lit up with desire and love for me, your body ready and willing."

"I'd *stay* like this forever, if I could. If we could." The smoky-blue depths grew darker with emotion.  "I'd take you inside me always, forever, if I could.  I don't ever want space between us, Jim. It's going to kill me to go back to my camp."

Now was as good a time as any; both of them were already feeling the separation keenly and they weren't even there yet. Maybe this would help them--both of them.

"I want to…bond with you, Blair. Take you as my bond-mate, in the Chopec way, using their ceremony."

Blair raised his eyes to meet Jim's, a light sheen of moisture filming them.  "A bonding ceremony?" he repeated, hoarsely.  "When? How? I thought--"  He couldn't finish the thought; he wasn't even sure it was a complete thought. His brain had shut off, obviously.

"The shaman told me that gifts from the gods are never easy things and that what was easily claimed may be difficult to hold on to. I'm not sure I understand everything he says to me, most of the time I *know* I don't. But I do know that he was giving me--us--a warning. He said that if we bonded, if you wore my symbol, then it would make it easier on us." He searched Blair's face, his eyes.  "Would you--would you do that, Blair? Bond with me, be my mate for life?"

"I already consider us mates for life," the younger man began in a raw voice, "but yeah, I'll wear your symbol, Jim."

"Good," Ellison replied, his own voice a little hoarse.  He again smoothed his fingers over the skin on his lover's chest, then gave him a tiny smile.  "We might have to…shave a little patch here," he murmured quietly.  "You're a hairy little thing."

Blair scrambled into a sitting position, surprise written all over his face.  "Shave? Little?" He couldn't believe it, but his voice actually squeaked a little before he regained control over it. "Whadaya mean, 'shave'…and in what sense, exactly, did you mean 'little'?"

Jim shifted until he was sitting as well, and held out his hands placatingly.  "For the mark, baby. Just a little spot right above your nipple. Like here." He gestured to his own scar, held his breath when Blair reached out and traced around it.

"Yeah," the younger man whispered. "We can do that." He looked up at Jim. "You can do this? Mark me?" His fingers traced over the black lines again, almost caressing.

"Yeah," was the breathless reply. When Jim looked up he saw desire swimming in those blue eyes staring at him; knew his own reflected the same.  "God, *again*? Sandburg, what the hell are you doing to me?"

"I don't know, lover, but you're having the same effect on *me*. " Blair leaned in for a kiss, stealing both their breaths away with his efforts.  He winced a little though when he sat back down and Jim frowned.

"We're gonna rest a little while, no matter how bad we want it, baby. Need to give our bodies a little chance to recover.  Mine, at least. Hell, you'll probably be able to spring right back up, even if we did make love right now. But me…" Jim laughed a little, "I'm older. The recovery period is longer. Although, you've got a good track record so far, getting responses out of me."  He smiled and traced his thumb over Blair's lips.  "I love you."

"Love you, too."  It was Blair's turn to frown a little.

"What's wrong?"

"If this is a ritual, do we need to, y'know, like purify ourselves, or anything?"

Jim shook his head.  "If you--or I--were a virgin, there'd be a purification ritual, but since we aren't, we don't need to worry about that.  I mean, if you want to, that's fine. But it's not going to offend anyone, that I'm aware of." He raised an eyebrow at the young man in front of him.  "What'd you have in mind, anyway?"

Blair smiled. "Some cultures required fasting before a ceremony as a means of purification; others require bathing; some do both.  I guess it just depends on the culture…and I don't know anything about this one."

Jim frowned again. "To be perfectly honest, I don't know about the fasting thing. I don't spend a lot of time in the village; when I do, I'm not generally there for the festivities, y'know?  But I'll tell you what--we haven't eaten yet today, so why don't we fast, just to be on the safe side of things, and we'll consider the swim our bath."

The younger man smiled again and shook his head. "I want to *bathe*, Jim," he said quietly.  "Especially if you're gonna shave me," he rubbed his chest with one hand, "I'm gonna want to clean up afterward."

"I said one small patch, Sandburg, and where'd you get the idea *I* was gonna do it?"

Blair leaned in and licked Jim's lips. "What, you don't want to?" he asked huskily, his tongue teasing at the seam of the luscious mouth under his.

The older man gave up with a groan and fell backward, pulling Blair on top of him.  "You're going to be the death of me yet, brat," he mumbled against the full lips that were pressing on his.  "I'll end up a dried out, depleted husk."

"But what a way to go," Blair teased, before opening his mouth for the welcome invasion of Jim's tongue.

Their tongues dueled sweetly, hotly, for several long minutes before they reluctantly sat up, chests heaving and eyes wide and hot as they stared at each other.

"Let's go wash up, for real this time," Jim managed hoarsely, standing and offering a hand down to his lover.  Blair nodded and grasped the hand, allowing himself to be tugged into an upright position, then propelled back into the water, this time to finish what they needed to do.

~~~~~

Dusk brought the beginning of night-music on the breeze.  Jim built the fire up again, then dug out his shaving kit and a small pan from his mess kit.  Water heated by the fire was set out, and a small bowl with the wood ash in it, which Jim reassured Blair had antiseptic qualities, then the older man sat down in front of the younger and picked up the razor.  A small, curved knife which he would use to make the mark sat waiting in another small bowl, soaking in hot, hot water.

"You ready, baby?"  His eyes were already dark with desire, with love, and  Blair shivered when he looked into them.

"I'm ready, Jim."  He glanced down at the razor in the older man's hand, his own eyes glinting with the same emotions.  The metal gleamed in the fading light and Blair lowered his eyes to watch Jim closely, his body tense with anticipation.

"I'm just shaving the area first, Blair."  Jim worked up a soapy lather and spread it over the small area he was going to mark.  His lover's skin was warm beneath his sensitive fingers and he could both hear and feel the heart pounding wildly below.  "Easy, baby," he murmured.  He understood, though.  There was a kind of magic working tonight.  He and Blair were pledging themselves to each other. Forever.  Shaking his head to clear it, Jim carefully scraped the razor over the area he'd lathered, his concentration deeply focused on not cutting the young man.

The whole procedure only took a minute or two, then Jim was sluicing him down with water, cleaning away the remainder of the soap and any stray hair. Blair let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and smiled at his lover.

"It wasn't that I thought you'd cut me," he began, only to be cut off by Jim's finger across his lips.

"I know, baby.  It's okay."  Jim smiled back.  "Are you ready? This part *will* hurt, though I promise it's not anything you can't bear."  He watched as his mate closed his eyes and took several long, deep breaths, settling and relaxing into a lotus position in front of him.  It was several minutes before Blair opened his eyes, but when he did, Jim could see the calm, the readiness there.

"I'm ready now, Jim.  Mark me as yours."

"*Our* mark, baby."  Jim's voice was gruff with emotion and he leaned forward and caught Blair's mouth with his own, pressing a hard, bruising kiss on the full lips.

The younger man's eyes were dark and smoky when Jim pulled back from him and reached for the knife.  Blair watched him bring the knife toward him and grasped the older man's free hand tightly with his.  The first prick of the blade against his skin drew a gasp but no other reaction.  Blair watched in fascination as the knife traced a quick pattern over his skin; the tip broke the skin but not deeply. Blood welled over the cut, but not a lot. It hurt, but was bearable like Jim had said it would be.  Actually, it didn't even hurt so much as stung like a sonofabitch.  The small patch of flesh directly over his heart stung like he had fire scorching his body.  He closed his eyes and bit his lip as the older man finished up the circle then paused to look at him.

"You okay?" His voice was heavy with concern over hurting this man who was so much to him.

"Fine, man." Blair's voice was hoarse. "Finish it up."  He looked into Jim's eyes.  "I love you, Ellison. Mark me as yours.  Put our symbol on me, so that everyone knows who I belong to. Who belongs to me."

"I love you, too," Jim whispered, dabbing at the blood with a scrap of cloth.  He raised the knife again. They had talked that afternoon about what sort of mark to put on Blair that would symbolize the two of them.  It had been Blair's idea to use the two lines that represented the tribe and twine them together to show the two of *them*, forever joined. Overlaid on Jim's circle, as he would forever guard them.

The first of those lines appeared beneath his knife now, and Jim shuddered and wiped his forehead quickly.  He could hear the increased breathing and pounding of Blair's heart, but didn't want to hurry because he didn't want to mess this up.  He squeezed the hands holding his free hand and resolutely began the other line, moving steadily.

It was done in a matter of minutes then, a rough circle with two twined lines over top it.  Jim wiped the blood once more, then picked up the bowl of ashes. He dipped up a fingerful and spread it over the cut, adding more, pressing gently against the still-weeping mark.  The words he spoke to Blair then were an approximation of what he knew to be part of the bonding ceremony.

"The joining is complete, my mark to your mark, set into your flesh where none shall dispute it.  You belong to me and my soul is yours.  I am the lock which holds us, you are the key that binds us.  Together we are one; separate we are none.  The ash sets the wound; when it has healed you will bear a mark that shall never wear off, never fade, never disappear.  You will be mine as long as that mark persists."

Blair met his gaze, his own eyes shining.  He reached down to trace his fingers gently around the outer circle of the mark.  "Yours," he breathed, then reached over to trace over Jim's mark.  "Mine."  Taking Jim's hand he raised it up and kissed the knuckles then pressed their joined hands first against the older man's heart, then over his own, holding it there for a moment, ignoring the pain of the new wound.  "Ours. Us. Forever."

Jim leaned forward to grasp Blair's hair gently, threading his fingers through it, guiding the young man's face to his. He claimed that lush mouth in a gentle, loving kiss, then pulled back a little.  "I love you, Blair Sandburg. I've lived here for a long time now, by myself, on the fringes of the tribe that I'm sworn to protect. But I've always known I'd find you…I just had to have faith in myself and powers that are beyond my comprehension.  I will always love you, no matter if we're separated or together. I will always find you, if we are separated, because my heart will always find you, eventually."

"I love you, James Ellison. You've been a part of me, of my dreams, since I was hardly more than a baby.  I've always known I would find you, and where,  I just had to wait for the right moment to look.  You're part of this jungle, Jim. You appear to me in dreams as a panther; a jungle cat who is wild and primal, but tender and gentle toward me.  I see all of that when I look in your eyes, lover. I see the man who is primal; I see the man is tender.  I will always love you, because there is no other choice for me. You've been my destiny since I was born.  If we are separated I will wait for you and our hearts will find each other eventually."

Blair moved forward as he spoke until his knees were bumped against the older man's.  Jim pulled him into his arms then and cupped his head to kiss him, groaning when his lover opened his mouth for him in invitation, teasing with an agile, facile tongue to lure him into the welcoming depths.

//Welcoming, indeed,// was Jim's muzzy thought as he thoroughly explored the interior of Blair's mouth.  It seemed as though each time they kissed his lover tasted a little different, that it was a little better than the last time.  He could smell such an increase in musk around the two of them, a musk that permeated their mouths as they kissed, because he could taste it, too.  And the different textures and patterns of Blair's mouth; striated, smooth, bumpy, slick.  Hard enamel and soft tissue.  Warm and wet and fragrant, tasting of the lush, hot jungle and the cool water and of the essence of the two of them.  He tasted himself in Blair's mouth, the dark, earthy musk of that most intimate part of his body, and he shuddered hard, his lover's mouth swallowing his moans.

He broke from Blair's mouth and nipped and sucked his way down, below the rough-stubbled jaw, down the side of his neck, across his throat.  He rolled them over and Blair arched his head back, barring his throat, offering himself up.  Jim grinned wolfishly and bent to suck at the Adam's apple bobbing there so temptingly before moving a little lower and biting down hard, sucking at the skin afterward, his body rousing to the wild sounds his lover was making.  A rush, a primal urge was rising over him, to take this nymph, this seductive young sprite, and make him *know* what primal truly meant.  What it meant to love a man who was part of the jungle; who claimed the jungle as part of himself.  He bit again, hearing his own low growl as Blair tipped his head back further, a quiet groan sounding through the small glade.

"How 'bout it, baby? You ready to make a sacrifice? Sacrifice yourself up to me, to the gods of love?"  The whisper was hot and harsh in the stillness of the clearing and Jim felt the shivers that traveled through the smaller body beneath his.  He moved away from the tempting ear he'd whispered in to look into wide, dark eyes that were nearly black with desire, with need.  His lover nodded, eyes growing even darker.  He growled again, the urge hot within him.  "You wear my mark, Sandburg…now wear a different one, also of my making."  Jim lowered his head again to the luscious throat bared to him and bit down hard, drawing blood this time.  Not a lot, just enough to leave a faint, coppery tang in his mouth, but it was enough.  His lover screamed with the combination of pleasure and pain that was surging within him.  He licked over the small wound, then sucked on it, pulling the flesh into his mouth.

A sting of pain greeted him then as nails were dug into his back and his lover held him close while teeth plundered his neck.  He yelled himself, a primal sound; a large cat taking his mate--the scream of passion.  No quarter asked for, none given. This would be rough and wild and loving and totally incredible.  He grinned hotly into his lover's face, licked his lips and lowered his mouth to the soft skin below Blair's ear and bit again.  Sandburg answered him by biting his shoulder, even, white teeth sinking into his skin.  He shuddered and ground himself into the hardness that was throbbing against him.

"Mine," he growled as he moved a little lower, his mouth still nibbling, leaving blood-red bruises all along the pale skin of Blair's throat and neck.  "I'll destroy anyone else who ever looks at you, Sandburg. I swear I will. You wear my mark…I wear yours. Don't ever think that means less than forever."  He suckled the skin just above the cut, his lips feeling the faint stubble left from where they'd shaved the curly chest hair away.  He heard the shuddering, gasping intake of breath as his lips hit the outer edge of the bruised flesh there. He softened his mouth, making his lips caressing, then moved lower to bite at the nipple that was throbbing so temptingly, waiting for him.  This time he didn't tug on the ring; instead he threaded his tongue through it and slid it back and forth, knowing the nipple was being slicked and teased by the flat of  his tongue.  Blair moaned and grasped his head, holding him closer, but Jim shook the hands off, pinning them to Blair's sides.  Long, slender fingers clutched at the grass on the ground as the bigger man began to slowly, carefully bring the small bud to the height of arousal.

He suckled the hard nub deep into his mouth, tasting the pebbly texture of it against his tongue. The ring was an obvious source of constant, low-level stimulation and he suckled it as well, knowing that he was tugging gently, even without doing so intentionally.  He ran the tip of his tongue over side of the small hard bud, caressing the area where the ring disappeared and reappeared on either side.  A vision formed in his mind of how this must have been done…someone pinching the bud to harden it, before piercing it.  He growled and bit at it, growling louder at Blair's grunt.

"Did you get off on it?" he demanded roughly, staring down at his lover. "When whoever it was pierced you, did you get off on them handling your tit, making it hard?"

"No," the younger man ground out. "It wasn't sexual, Jim. Different shit, lover.  I get off on *you* handling them. Do it, man. Touch me…make me scream again."  He stared up into Jim's face, seeing the heat in the light blue eyes.

"I hate the thought that *anyone* else ever touched you, Blair. I'm jealous of any fucking person who's had any of you. And I mean it--I'll kill anyone who ever touches you again."

"Not a problem, 'cause there won't ever be anyone but you."  Blair was panting now, his body straining upward toward Jim's.

The bigger man released his wrists and brought one hand up to pinch at the other bud that was standing there so fiercely aroused, so hard.  "You like that, don't you? Like me touching and pinching you."  The younger man had his head back again, panting and arching into Jim's touch.

"Yesssss."  It was a sibilant whisper, echoing the sinuous movements Blair was making, his body writhing beneath the increasingly erotic touches to his body.

Jim lowered his head to whisper into his lover's ear, his tongue dipping into the small canal wetly. "Want more? Want it harder? Tell me what you like, baby." He traced the ear with his tongue while Blair struggled for enough breath to speak.

"H..harder, yes…please…ohhhgod! Yes!" His body arched upward into Jim's hand as the bigger man pinched hard on the small throbbing bud before moving his head to lick at the erect flesh.  He groaned when Jim took his nipple between his lips and suckled hard, pulling the flesh deep into his mouth, swirling his tongue around, raking his teeth over it.  "Yesss…like that, lover…god, yes…"  The smaller man shook and shuddered from Jim's ministrations, his body on fire already.

Back to the other nipple to nurse and lick while he resumed pinching this one. Jim could feel the heat throbbing from both of the tender, hard little nubs and shivered, knowing he was pushing Blair to this. That his lover was throbbing with heat for *him*.  His primal side pushed harder and surged again. He bit down on the nipple in his mouth and heard Blair's grunt of pain, then felt the wiggle as the pain subsided and warmed into pleasure.  He left the nipple then and moved his mouth to the center of Blair's chest, licking at the silky hair there, nipping at the skin beneath it.  The skin tasted of musk and sweat; of heat and smoke from their fire, and from the fire burning within the shifting body.  There was a faint taste of grass and an even fainter taste of himself here, and he found himself licking up and down the slender torso, taking in all the flavors he could catalogue. 

His tongue bathed up one side, running over ribs that were showcased when Blair arched hard against him, moving along to the hollow of one arm, before nosing gently through the tufts of hair there.  He smelled his lover's fragrance, and licked lovingly, tasting him, before nipping gently and moving on. Back down and across Blair's waist, pausing only briefly to dip into the tempting navel before running his tongue up the other side of his lover's body.  The other armpit was given the same treatment as Jim scented him thoroughly, knowing now he'd be able to find him in the dark just by scent alone.  He moved lower then, back to the navel that had captivated him earlier, ready to pay it homage now.  His tongue flicked in and out, teasing along the rim of the small hollow, the soft sobs and moans from the younger man like music to his ears as Blair wiggled and squirmed beneath him.

"Ticklish, baby?" he asked gruffly, his mouth moving against the soft hair that surrounded the tiny cavity.

"L..little…just feels g..good, Jim," was the stuttered answer, as Blair's brain attempted to respond.  Rather than waste more time on words he could barely articulate, he wiggled a little harder, pushing himself upward, arching himself in invitation.  Jim growled and thrust his tongue suggestively in, wiggling it back and forth, feeling the cock that was trapped against his chest throb hard in answer. His own dick felt like it was hard enough to snap off his body, and both of them were wet with the juices that were flowing copiously now.

He bit the rim of Blair's belly button, licked it again, then moved lower, licking as he went. His tongue picked up the heavier tang of sweat and musk here, along with the bitter flavor from the fluids spilled earlier today, as well as the hot juices leaking now.  The skin across Blair's pelvis was tight, and he caressed the line of hair and the bluish veins there with his tongue, feeling the dull thud of his lover's pulse pounding there.  Further down was Blair's cock; totally erect, straining upward, leaking from the tiny slit that was pulsing in time to the throbbing of  his heart.  Heavy, swollen balls were hanging below the gorgeous cock, all of it nestled within a luxuriant nest of thick, curly dark hair.  Jim ran his tongue through that hair, then around the base of Blair's cock, feeling the hot skin stretched so tautly, the pulse so close against his tongue, only that thin layer separating them.  He nipped with his lips here, moving up the shaft to the crown, sucking it into his mouth.  His young lover groaned and thrust upward, trying to drive himself further into the hot mouth holding him.  Jim shook his head and gently pushed the straining hips down.  He let the hot flesh slide from his lips and kissed the weeping tip, using his tongue to soul-kiss, caressing and probing the tiny slit that was seeping fluid.

"You taste so good," he ground out, before returning to lick around the flared edge of the crown. "I could eat you…devour you. A fucking feast, baby.  Ready to feed me?" He grinned lasciviously up at Blair and heard the younger man's heart speed up even faster.  "That's it, baby…you get nice and excited, get hot. Gonna eat you up."  He licked back over the slit that was leaking faster now.  "You gonna come for me, baby? I want to drink you down."

"Oh, god." The hot words were burning into his brain. 'How long before I spontaneously combust?'  "Make me," he challenged hoarsely, his cock straining from Jim's attentions.

"God, you're really asking for it, aren't you?" The bigger man mumbled around the heated flesh.  "Oh yeah, I'll make you, baby," he growled in a low, rough voice.  "I'll make you come so fucking hard you'll see stars."

"…*yes*…" 

More of a groan, or a whisper, than an actual word, but it burned into Jim's brain. He opened his mouth and swallowed the throbbing organ down his throat, feeling the slide and glide of hot, sweet skin against his own heat.  The shaft rubbing against his lips and tongue, fitting into his throat was silky smooth, but not. The veins beneath the surface rolled and shifted a little under his touch; the tiny pores were like a raised-dot pattern against his tongue.  The skin itself held a musky flavor that was nearly intoxicating…and then there was the warm bitter-salt liquid seeping out.  Above him Blair's voice had ceased to make words, the only thing emerging now were strangled groans and grunts as Jim worked him with his mouth, sucking and licking, moving up and down the hot shaft.

His lover shifted his legs open and Jim reached to fondle the swollen balls, rolling and cupping them in his hand, squeezing gently, then not so gently as he felt Blair's body temperature changing.  The writhing, squirming body beneath him was moving faster, hips thrusting upward. Jim breathed out through his nose and swallowed the hot shaft a little deeper into his throat, his free hand reaching up to pinch at the hard nipples jutting from Blair's chest, tiny hard peaks, miniatures of the column of flesh he was sucking on.

"Oh! Ohohohohoh…." Blair thrashed his head back and forth on the ground cradling him and shook harder, the intensity of the pleasure washing over him, pushing at him. He was dangling on the precipice now, Jim's mouth taking him to that incredible place where there was nothing but pleasure. He shuddered harder, his cock straining and throbbing, then exploding, a burst of white-hot light searing through him at the same time. He released his seed in several hot bursts into Jim's waiting mouth, groaning and sobbing when the older man's throat massaged him as he drank him, just as he'd been promised; the stars he'd also been promised dancing around his eyes as his vision went a little spotty for a minute.

Jim swallowed the last of the thick cream and let the still partially-erect organ slip from his lips. His own breathing was fast and erratic because he wanted Blair so bad right now he could barely focus on anything. The blowjob had been an appetizer; he was ready for the main course now.  He shifted upward to kiss his gasping lover, then bit him gently just below where he'd drawn blood.  His tongue soothed over the bites, the marks turning into bruises of passion on the pale skin.

"Want you, baby," he whispered in a husky voice. "Want you, need you, love you. Gotta have you, Blair.  Claim you again and again as mine."  His lips traced the bruises, then moved across to nip at an earlobe.  Fingers tightened on his biceps as Blair responded to the light, gentle caresses.

"Yes, yours," swirled around in his head as teeth scored his flesh over and over, biting and nipping down the side of his neck. Jim shuddered in Blair's arms as his young lover marked him, then shuddered again when the primal part of him began surging again, fed by Blair's seed and the scent and taste of his skin and the feel of the younger man marking *him*.  He growled and pulled away, flipping the smaller man over onto his stomach, biting roughly at the unblemished skin of his back and shoulders.

"Gonna have you," he muttered harshly into the soft skin, watching the muscles ripple and move beneath it as Blair squirmed and wiggled.  He licked his way down the long back, tasting sweat and salt and musk, combined with other earthy flavors.  At the indentation that signaled Blair's waist he paused and nipped, then bit harder, sucking on the skin and growling when the younger man moved, pushing upward against him, an incoherent plea hissing around them.

"*Please*…" Just a word, but so much emotion, so much feeling behind it.  The mouth devouring him was driving him insane with desire. Even now, just minutes after an intense, powerful orgasm that rocked him to his core, he was burning for this man, this primal other half of himself.  He shook harder and felt the mouth move lower, a warm wet tongue tracing over the fleshy mounds of his ass, teasing down the crack between his cheeks.  He groaned, his whole body surging in arousal, and spread his legs wider.  He felt Jim grin at his wanton action, and teeth nipped his butt, sinking into the skin just to the outside of the sensitive cleft.  He moaned and moved his legs a little further apart in invitation.

"Oh yeah, baby…you spread 'em for me."  Jim grinned again, the words surging from his throat, husky and raw.  Blair's whole body was flushed with arousal; a light pink dusting over the pale skin with its dark sprinkling of hair.  He lowered his head and bit his lover's ass again, then teased his tongue all the way down the shadowy cleft until he reached the puckered, throbbing bud that hid the center of his lover.  He caressed Blair's cheeks with his hands, then parted them, holding him open and exposed to his eyes.  "I love you like this, Blair," he continued in a hot murmur, lowering his head to trace a whisper-soft trail around the little rosette.  "All hot, and shaking, your body ready for my loving. I love it, I love you."  He wiggled the tip of his tongue against the tiny bud and felt it relax and unfurl a little for him.  "That's it, baby. Relax for me. Let me in."

A loud groan rose up and Jim felt his body shake as the hunger surged within him again.  He licked back up the crease, nipped each cheek and bit at the edge of the crease, then licked back down again, detouring around the bud that was quivering, begging for his attention.  He nibbled at the edge of the pucker, teasing it with the blunt edges of his teeth, then laving it expansively with the flat of his tongue. Blair's groans turned to outright moans of pleasure as he thrust his ass upward, begging without words for more.  Jim pressed his tongue against the pulsing opening and fluttered it, teasing, then pushed inward, stabbing with just the tip, feeling the hot muscle tighten around him before loosening to let him in. He groaned as his own cock throbbed angrily, wanting and needing release, wanting to be where his tongue was right now.  Another shove from the hot body beneath him forced his tongue a little further into the snug channel and he growled softly.  Blair's body was butter-soft inside, and hot as a furnace. The tight muscles that guarded this most precious opening so carefully were relaxing and opening for him, loosened by their earlier loving and his lover's hunger for him.

Jim slid his tongue out and licked and nipped at the now partially-opened pucker and the tender skin around it. He sucked on a finger, slicking it up good, then slid it into the hot, tight tunnel, shuddering when Blair tightened then relaxed around him.

"More," the younger man groaned, pushing his hips up. "I want *you*, Jim…need your cock inside me, fucking me."

"Christ, baby," the bigger man thrust a second slicked finger into the straining, writhing body.  "God," he moaned, "you're so hot…like a goddamn oven…" He withdrew his fingers and shifted upward onto his knees, then slapped the tempting ass in front of him.  Blair groaned and wiggled for him.

"Do it, Jim…please…I'm beggin' here, lover…dyin'…need you…" the younger man panted hard, his body straining backward for the large warm man behind him. 

"Comin', baby…relax."  Jim spread oil on his throbbing erection, the poured some down over the open cleft, rubbing it into the exposed, loose hole there.  He pulled Blair back against him, shuddering when his cock touched against the little bud waiting there, at the heat being thrown from his lover's center.  A loud, snarling growl filled the air as he sank his aching dick into the slick heat waiting for him.  Another growl answered him as Blair surged backward, pushing against him, driving him deeper into the pulsing channel.

"Take me! Take me! Fuck me, Jim, love me!" The words were hoarse whispers ringing around them, filling Jim's head.  He growled again and pulled out, thrusting back inside the hot, willing body with all he had in him.  Blair met him thrust for thrust, accepting, then demanding more; harder and faster, he cried aloud, begging to be pounded.  Jim acquiesced willingly, pulling Blair further up onto all fours and spreading those luscious cheeks wide with his hands while he took him with a loving ferocity that surprised both of them.  He groaned when Blair tightened around him and watched the long line of his lover's back, and the shaking arm movements as the younger man stroked himself furiously in time to the hard, fast thrusting.

The fast pace and hard, deep pounding over and over into a body that was hard and muscled on the outside, as soft and slick as button on the inside, and oh-so-welcoming and willing was almost more than Jim could stand.  He wanted it over now, so he could get the relief of release; he wanted it to go on forever because he never wanted to leave this warmth, this heaven he found here.  Part of him was appeased, finally; this was his mate, his lover, and he could have him as often as he wanted him, needed him.  The primal part of him, the jungle part that would forever be part of his soul, would never be sated; no matter how often he did this he would want more.

Blair moaned and jerked himself harder, faster, his body beginning to shake from the intensity of the thrusts he was receiving.  He relaxed himself further and felt Jim slide a little deeper into him, pushing against the hard little nub inside.  He shouted with pleasure, a loud, indecipherable cry, and pushed back hard against the bigger man, his whole body quivering. His own cock was hard, drooling and spitting juice with each stroke, each thrust.  He bit his lip and jerked faster, the moans escaping from his mouth as fast as his hand worked now.  So close…just a little more…

Jim hit his prostate again and the world exploded in technicolor behind his eyelids as his body exploded within his hand, spattering the ground below him with his offering.

"Oh, Christ," the bigger man panted. He knew as soon as he touched that small, swollen gland it was all over. Blair's body tightened around his like a thermo-nuclear vice-grips, squeezing his aching cock beyond bearing.  He had time to suck in a gulp of air, then the world was beyond him for a minute as all points on his body tuned into the exquisite pleasure flowing through him.  His cock felt like it was burning from the inside out as he released his hot juices into the tunnel surrounding him, stroking him, milking him.

His legs gave out first, propelling both of them forward. At the last minute, just short of squashing Blair beneath him, Jim pushed himself sideways, pulling his lover against him, spoon-fashion.  They were still joined, but his cock was flaccid now and slipped out when Blair shifted, his body tightening too much for the quiescent organ to fight against.  Both men groaned quietly at the loss of contact and Jim pulled the smaller man even tighter against him.  He buried his face in the riot of curls tumbling about, breathing deeply of the scent that was unique to Blair.  In all the time out here, with all the crazy things his heightened awareness had brought to him, he decided that smell was the most blessed of them--he could imprint all the different smells that made up the scent of his lover into his brain forever.

They lay there for some time, not talking, just laying together and enjoying the closeness of the other.  Eventually, both dozed off, content and sated from their loving.  The last thing Jim heard just before he tumbled fully into the land of Nod was "I'll love you forever…"

****************************

They woke shortly before sunrise, both stiff from having now spent two nights sleeping on the bare ground.  Jim groaned as he staggered to his feet, then turned to watch Blair do the same. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of his young lover; at the bruises and bite that liberally marked the pale skin.

He smiled, although it didn't quite banish the concern in his eyes.  "How do you feel?"

Blair grinned at him and teased a finger down his neck. "Like some wild beast devoured me whole last night."

"That's about what you *look* like."  The bigger man's voice was sober.

"Don't even be guilting over this, Jim.  I loved last night. Don't ever think different. Besides, lover, you're sporting a few bruises and teeth marks yourself." The slender fingers traced a particularly colorful pattern on his right shoulder and Jim found himself smiling for real.

"Guess we're both a couple of animals, huh."

"Looks that way." Blair shifted, still grinning, but with an urgent look on his face. "Look, man, I gotta take a leak. Be right back."

"I'm gonna poke up the fire so we can have some hot water for tea, then I have to do the same thing."

"Heat up some extra so I can wash up, 'kay?" the younger man called back over his shoulder as he moved into the copse of trees and brush just ahead of him.  He heard Jim's grunt of acknowledgment and smiled. The smile turned to a frown when he considered that this could very easily be their last morning together for a long time to come. Jim hadn't actually said as much, but he knew the older man was going to guide him back to his camp either today, or at the latest, tomorrow. Last night's love-making had had a tinge of desperation to it that couldn't be denied. A hunger and a need that both of them felt down inside their souls.  He sighed and finished peeing, then turned back to the small camp that felt more like home right now than anywhere else he'd ever been.

***************************

Jim was already sitting back at the campfire pulling his boots on when Blair emerged from the small lean-to, dressed and uncertain.  He cast a wary glance at his lover and felt his heart thud first to a dead stop, then begin beating in triple-time when the older man answered his unspoken question with a nod.

"When?" Was all he could manage with the piddly little bit of oxygen that was left in his lungs.

"I need to walk a perimeter, and check in with the Chopec who walked it for me yesterday…then we'll go."  Jim looked down at the ground between his feet and sighed, poked at the dirt there before looking back up. "You've got to know I don't want to do this, Blair. The thought of taking you from here--away from me--it's killing me inside, baby."  The last words were whispered; hoarse and full pain.  Blair covered the small distance from lean-to to where Jim was and dropped to his knees in front of the older man.

"I *know*, Jim." He shuddered and reached out to cup Jim's face in his hands.  "I know it, lover. Because it's killing me as well.  I can't…" he closed his eyes tight, then opened them again when large warm hands covered his own.  "At least we have some memories to hold us until we can be together again."

"I'm resigning my commission when I get back to the states, Blair. I'm not going to…I can't do something that will continue to separate us, and I'm not sure I want to do this any longer, anyway. I know it's all I've done…but I've had thoughts about getting out since I landed here over a year ago. It hurt so bad to lose my team…but I know that that was nothing compared to what it's gonna feel like to…to…" He couldn't say the words. Instead, Jim leaned forward and caught Blair's mouth with his, a desperate, demanding, bruising kiss, trying to convey all his emotions through touch.

Blair accepted and returned the kiss full measure, his own emotions spinning wildly out of control.  He couldn't stand the thought of returning to his own camp, much less not having any idea how long it might be before he would actually *see* Jim again.  He raised his arms to wrap around the larger man's neck, and his fingers brushed against the metal chain that held the soldier's dog-tags.  He lifted it up, the pulled away to pull it over Ellison's head. With a defiant look at his lover he draped the chain over his own neck; the tags were still warm from Jim's body and he shivered from the heat.

Jim would have laughed at the defiant look if he hadn't been so heartsick and touched at the same time. He shook his head.  "I don't suppose you care that you're not supposed to have those?"

Blair shook his head. "I need something tangible that was *yours*, man. And I know you have a spare set--I saw them in your toiletry kit."

"Snooping in my stuff again, Sandburg?"

Blair shook his head and raised sad eyes up.  "Go do your perimeter, man. I'm gonna sit here and contemplate the gross unfairness of life right now."

Ellison reached out and caressed the auburn curls that were glinting with bits of sunlight.  "I don't want to go…to leave you, at all. God, Blair…just the thought hurts… But I know that the longer we wait, *knowing*, the harder it will be to do. That's one of the things that the military taught me…the less time you have to dwell on it, the better off you end up, in the long run."

The sad, beautiful face in front of him didn't look impressed. Just sadder.  "You'll excuse me, I hope, if that doesn't make me feel a lot better."

"I know, baby. I'm sorry, I--"

"Forget it, Jim. Just go do your thing, then come back here…" Blair settled on the ground cross-legged, his body shaking with suppressed emotion.  Jim nodded and quietly left the encampment.

****************************

They made love one last time before leaving the encampment; a wild, rough, desperate dance that abruptly turned gentle, tender, needing. The hunger was no less intense; the emotions were no less evident. But both men felt the sadness deep in their souls and sought to comfort the other; their bodies responded and melded together. They climaxed, rocking gently, tears mingling on lips and cheeks as they lay together, loving, not knowing when they'd be together again.

When they had caught their breath, Jim helped Blair to his feet and they dressed silently, neither one sure what to say that wouldn't make them feel worse.  Their hands brushed frequently, needing to touch, to feel the closeness of the other for this last bit.

At last, with the sun beginning its downward spiral, they set off through the jungle, in the direction of the river near where Blair'd been attacked by the snake.

****************************

They found the university camp a couple of hours after moonrise.  Jim stopped them just on the other side of a small thicket of trees and brush and pulled the young man hard against him, squeezing tightly.

"I'm going to hold you for a minute, then kiss you goodbye. When I let go, I need you to turn around and walk to your camp. Don't look back, Blair. Don't turn to wave. Don't do anything that might…" he shuddered and stopped, his voice full of pain. After a minute he continued in a hoarse whisper, "I can barely do this as it is, baby. I need you to help me. I can't--can't do it on my own. Can you do that, Blair? Can you turn and go, and not look back at me? Just keep walking?"

Blair nodded against the hard, warm chest he was being cradled to.  He brought his own arms up and squeezed back, his heart hurting so bad he wasn't sure he could bear the pain.  "This is so fucking unfair," he whispered.  "We love each other…we shouldn't have to…to…"  His throat closed over the words and he found himself tipping his head back to stare at Jim.  "Kiss me, lover.  Make me forget for just a minute…please.  Give me another minute to have you…to hold you."

Soft, warm lips found his and he shuddered and moaned softly as Jim teased at his mouth with his tongue, licking over his lips and asking for entry.  He opened his mouth and let the warm invader inside, mated their tongues together.  Slick and warm, hungry and needing, their mouths made love to each other for long, long minutes, different tastes and flavors combining once again with salt from a few tears that neither one could stop from falling.

"You'll come find me, right?" Blair whispered harshly against Jim's chest when they'd broken apart.  They were still clinging tightly to each other, because when their arms let go, Blair had to walk away, and Jim had to let him.

"I'll come as soon as I can, baby.  And Blair…" Jim loosened one hand to cup his lover's chin and tilt his head back.  "I'm not going to wait here forever.  If I haven't heard something in six months time…I'll make my way to the nearest city or military installation. I'll find a way back home…I won't leave you waiting.  I promise, Blair."

"I'll wait for you, Jim. I'll be in Cascade, waiting for you.  I… Oh, god, Jim…I can't do this."  Blair buried his face against the muscular chest and bit his lip to keep the tears at bay. He wasn't going to cry. He *wasn't*.

"We have to, Blair.  Kiss me again, baby, then let's do it. The longer we wait the worse it hurts."

"I can't imagine anything hurting worse than this."  Blair tilted his head and opened his mouth for one last kiss; one last taste of the man he loved more than life itself.  Then Jim's arms were unwrapping from him, pulling away.  He shivered.  "I love you. I will always love you, Jim."

"I love you too, baby. Go Blair…Jesus, go, before I forget why I'm supposed to be strong."

Blair reached out and stroked one finger over the mouth he'd just kissed, then turned and walked away.  He didn't turn around, didn't look back.  And Jim stood and watched him go, his heart breaking with every step that took the young man further from him.

He stood there for several long minutes; long enough to hear the glad, welcoming cries of the group that had thought their friend and colleague was perhaps missing forever in the unforgiving jungle.  Long enough to hear Blair brush aside a lot of their questions and give vague answers in a hoarse, rough voice.  Long enough to hear one last whispered "I love you, Jim".  Then he turned and headed back the way he'd come, his back stiff, his face stern and unyielding, his heart broken.

*******************************

Chopec Pass, Peru, September 1989

Captain Jim Ellison rolled over on his mat and stared up at the ceiling of his lean-to.  It'd been nearly a month since Incacha had found him, bleeding and seriously wounded from a land-mine explosion.  He'd listened to the shaman's tale of where and how he'd found him and combined it with the knowledge he had of explosives and come to the conclusion that he must have triggered a trip wire. But the question remained: why hadn't he *seen* it? He'd been able to spot things like that for a long time; ever since his heightened awareness had kicked in.  Something niggled at the back of his brain, but he couldn't make the thought swim into focus. All he could do was speculate, and it was bugging the fucking hell out of him.

The worst of all was the missing time.  He was missing at least three month's worth; possibly longer. It was hard to say for sure, because again, he could only speculate. He knew that the last *solid* memory he had was the day that he'd told Kandiki how odd the air seemed.  Things got hazy after that, up until about a week ago, when he'd finally started really getting his strength back.  Kandiki and Incacha told him that he was damned lucky not to have died; if shrapnel from the explosion had hit just a little further up or down from where it had, he'd probably have bled to death; never mind the head wound that came along with it.

A commotion or disturbance of some sort , near where the rotting wreckage of his helicopter was, caught his attention and propelled him out of bed.  He thrust his feet into his boots and grabbed his weapons up.  By the time he was halfway to the crash-site, he could hear volleys of gunfire going off.  Gunfire meant one of two things: more guerrillas or soldiers.  Officials of some sort.  He shuddered and wondered if it was relief for him. //God, I hope so. I'm fucking sick and tired of this; tired of being down here.// Again, there was that fleeting moment of knowing something was lost, along with the sick sensation of missing it--but not being able to recognize what *it* was.  The gunfire had stopped and an eerie sense of quiet hit him then.  He hurried down the path, not surprised to see most of the Chopec warriors joining him, lining up to let him through.  Halfway down the hill to the wreckage he spotted fatigues and camo paint; on the arm patch of one was the Airborne/Special Forces/Ranger insignia.  His knees nearly gave out on him as he realized he hadn't been given up on! He was going home!

Jim Ellison schooled his face into a tight mask and continued down, seeing the disbelief in the commander's face as he approached.  He held out his hand. "Captain James Ellison, ODA731.  Are you my relief?"

The captain stared at him, then took his hand. "Your relief?"

Ellison stared back at him, trying to hold on to his patience. "We were ordered to contact the local tribes and organize a militia.  These men and I have held the Chopec pass for eighteen months, and frankly, Captain, I'm kinda tired."  A sudden burst of sound above him startled him and Jim tilted his head upward to view the sky. The other captain did so as well, then shot him an odd look when he saw nothing. When the flock of birds came into view, the Captain stared at him again, a strange look on his face.  Jim ignored it and turned to gesture at the area where the unit had began to excavate the graves. "I have the dog-tags for all my men, Captain.  If you want to accompany me back to my camp, I'll get them and they can be sealed with the remains so there's no question as to who is who."

The other man nodded and gestured to his second in command.  "Continue the operation here. I'll be back shortly."

"Yes, Sir!"

It was so simple after that.  He was airlifted out of the jungles of Peru and returned to the United States.

Three months later, after extensive debriefings, questioning and an unceasingly endless series of physical and psychiatric tests, Captain James Ellison was a civilian again, and on his way to his home state of Washington, to try his hand at police work.

*********************************

Cascade, Washington, January 1990

"What do you mean, 'no record found'?"  Blair Sandburg listened to the voice on the other end prattle on, his temper notching slowly toward out-of-control with each passing second.  He'd been on the phone for the better part of the day--well, hell, for the better part of the last six *weeks*--and had gotten nowhere, fast.  His latest attempt to find out some information on the whereabouts of an Army Ranger captain named James J. Ellison were dead-ending as quickly as all his other attempts had.

So far he'd tried Ft. Campbell, which was where Jim had said he'd flown out of. He'd tried the Department of Veterans Affairs headquarters in Washington, D.C.  He'd contacted the Red Cross and the USO; the Veterans of Foreign Wars, the American Legion.  When Jim made the cover of Newsweek he'd gone ape-shit, calling all of those organizations.  When he made the cover of Time, he lost it completely, and contacted the editor of the magazine.  He'd been told, sorry, that information is confidential; whereabouts cannot be given out without the person having given express permission beforehand.  Based on information he read in the articles he'd contacted Walter Reed Hospital.  Jim had been discharged from the hospital two weeks ago.  He was so close, yet so far away.  He'd hung up the phone, cried for a while, then sat back down, trying to regroup, reform a plan.

It hurt so bad.

Part of him was trying to figure out why he was trying so hard to find a man who obviously didn't want to be found. At least not by him.  Then the sane, rational part of his mind would demand why he thought *that*--irrefutable evidence to the contrary aside.  //Jim loves me. He swore he did; we took vows, make a pledge…we did a bonding ceremony.  He wouldn't just not find me…something's wrong. That has to be it.// It had to be, because the alternative was too painful.

So here he was, one last attempt. After this he didn't know where to try, because he was out of options at that point.  The Pentagon.  A bureaucratic nightmare; the kind of place he'd learned long ago to avoid like the plague whenever possible, and he was calling there, practically begging for scraps of information.

And the bitch on the other end of the phone was telling him that there was no record available.  Fuck!

Rationally, he knew before he picked up the phone that his chances of getting information when he called there were slim, but hope was a desperate, wild thing beating in his breast, and he felt he had to try. Never mind that the Pentagon staff didn't know him from Adam.  Or that he had no claim to Ellison, like next-of-kin.  Never mind that this was the last, clinging desperate attempt of a man so heartsick that he no longer really cared about the life going on around him.  He had to try, one last time.

"Thank you very much for looking.  Yes. Thank you."  He hung up the phone with a click and stared at it for a long, long time, feeling the hope in his heart die a little bit.  Not a lot; it would take a long time before it died away completely.  But he knew that with each passing day it would grow a little fainter, no matter his attempts to bolster it.  He raised his hand to trace absently over the gleaming black scar that showed two lines twined together over a black circle.  Mates forever guarded by the guardian.  Hanging next to it on a silver chain were a set of dog-tags that were all he retained of Jim, save the memories of a week's worth of laughing and talking, and two glorious nights of love-making.

The first of the hot tears dripping down his face nearly scalded him; then, Blair put his head down on his arms and cried out the pain of a slowly-breaking heart.

********************************

Rainier University, Cascade, Washington, April 1996

His phone rang, startling him from the tests he'd been submerged in.  "Sandburg. Yeah, okay, be down there in a second."  Shit, a fax. Well, that was okay, he just hated to break his concentration.  He finished grading the booklet open on his desk, and tossed it into the pile of 'done'.  Unfortunately, that pile was still a lot smaller than the 'not done'.  He sighed, looking at it, then hurried down the hall to the office to retrieve his fax.

Dorothy Standish smiled at him when he breezed through the door.  "You collecting medical charts now as well, Blair?"

Remembering that Kelly had said she'd let him know if anything 'suspicious' came into the hospital he grinned, then blustered, "Uh, no…why?"

"'Cause that's what this is, honey. Here."  She handed him the copy and watched him, a frown breaking over her pleasant features when his face went dead white as he skimmed the information there.  "Blair?  Blair--honey, what is it?"

"He's here," he whispered hoarsely. "Oh my god, he's *here*."  He turned and rushed back out of the office, not even hearing Dorothy's question of 'who's here?'

****************************

In the safety of his own office, with the door locked against visitors, Blair took the faxed record and smoothed it out on his desk, staring at it as if it were the holy grail. In some ways, it was.  It sent a brief flare of renewed hope surging through him--hope he hadn't realized was still alive in his heart; however faint.

Name: James Joseph Ellison

DOB: June 12, 1958

Sex: Male

Marital Status: Divorced

Occupation: Detective, grade 1, Cascade Police Dept., Major Crimes Division

Address: 352 Prospect, #307, Cascade WA

Home Phone No. Not given

Work Phone No.  555-4735, ext. 2131

Insurance: Bill Traveler's via Cascade PD

Complaint: Hearing loud noises, hearing bothered by audio stimuli.  Eyes highly sensitive to light and other stimuli. Sense of smell highly exaggerated; sense of taste highly exaggerated as well.  Patient has asked that tests be run to try and uncover the source of this hyper-stimulation.  Possible cause: Unknown. 

Blair read over the information three times before he could focus on anything in particular. His mind was still reeling from this being *Jim*--at least he thought it was his Jim.  The heightened senses thing certainly played out; some of the rest of it made no sense whatsoever.  Divorced? Working as a cop?  What was up with some of that?  And living right here in Cascade?  He shook his head, wondering about it; then he wondered no more as he settled on a plan of action.  It was time to get down to Cascade General and visit one of the city's finest: one of her boys in blue.

*******************************

Cascade General Hospital

Detective James Ellison wiggled impatiently on the exam table as the tech finished the x-rays, then sighed when he left him alone.  He waited for a few minutes, in case anyone came back in to finish up, but it quickly became apparent that whatever the tech had x-rayed, he was done.  He looked around the room, wondering what he was doing here. What the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn't he deal with this thing?  So his senses were out of whack.  That wasn't cause for freaking out like he had--was it?  He shuddered, remembering the aborted attempt at dinner with Carolyn last night. What'd he been thinking, anyway? //Wooing the ex-wife, Jimmy? What the *hell* was up with that kiss, anyway?//  He shook his head and slipped off the exam table, pulling the paper gown from his body impatiently.  If a doctor didn't get in here in the next five minute, he was gonna stick his head out the door and start roaring. The part of him that had absorbed the jungle was still very much present; although generally quiet, his primal side had a tendency to surge to the fore when he least expected it...and now seemed like a prime moment for that.

He was buttoning his shirt on when the door opened and he turned his attention toward it to find a young man with long, curly hair gathered back in a pony-tail walking through the door.  He was cute--he was damned cute. But Jim wasn't here to troll for dates or bedmates. He was here to figure out what the hell was up with his mind, his body, whatever it was.  He looked at the young man expectantly, noting the faint expression of hopefulness and excitement on his face. //Way too young for you anyway, Jimmy,// he chastised himself, feeling an odd sort of prickle run through his mind at the thought.

"Detective Ellison?  I'm Dr. McKay." The kid even *sounded* hopeful. Great. A brand-new baby doctor, hoping to score the big one with the cop with the freaky senses

Suspicion shot through Ellison like a bullet with his name on it. "Your name tag says McCoy."

"Um...yeah. But the correct Gaelic pronunciation of my family name is McKay."

He'd let it slide for now.  "You got the results?"

"Of?"

Damn, the hopeful look had faded a notch. Too bad. He kind of liked the way it brightened the kid's eyes. If he was interested in looking at him.  He reined in his wayward thoughts and tried to curb his impatience.  "The tests?"

There was a momentary pause, then the kid regrouped. "Forget the tests! You don't need medicine. You need information."

"W-what are you? An intern?" All right. There were jokes and then there were jokes. This wasn't funny any longer.  Jim finished buttoning his shirt and gestured toward the door. "Go get the doctor will you, please." 

"Now, what a minute. Hear me out here." The kid moved around him and Jim turned to follow him, at once fascinated and irritated as hell . "Loud noises that shouldn't be loud. Smelling things that no else can smell.  Weird visuals. Taste buds off the map, right?"

Ellison frowned. "That's all on my chart."

"Yeah. But I bet I could add one thing--a hyperactive tactile response."

"A what?"

"Uh, " the younger man grinned knowingly at him, "extra-sensitive touchy-feely lately?"

"Hey, man, that's none of your business. And who the hell are you, anyway?" The words were practically snarled and he felt a little bit bad when the kid winced away slightly.

"Hey. I'm no one. But this man, he is." Jim took the card  that was handed to him. "The only one who could truly help you.  You're too far ahead of the curve for any of this techno-trash.  You're a cop, see the man." With that, Dr. McKay pushed past Jim and left the room leaving a very confused, bemused cop behind, and not at all surprised when a *real* doctor, sans nametag, walked in a moment or two later.

****************************

//He doesn't remember me. He didn't even recognize me.  What the *fuck* is up with that?!  Did I mean that little...did *we* mean that little?//

It'd been twenty minutes since he'd left the hospital, except he was still sitting in his car in the parking lot, his mind whirling around.  That Detective James Ellison was a sentinel, he had no doubt. The signs had been there when he knew him in Peru.  He just didn't know enough about them at the time to really recognize it.  But *why* Jim didn't recognize him now was a total, complete, heart-breaking mystery.  And he thought he was way beyond the heartbreak stage.

It had been almost seven years since he'd seen Jim, other than a momentary glimpse of him on the cover of some magazines.  It'd been six years that he'd quit trying to actively find him, although he still looked on the 'net sometimes, when he had some free time.  Actually, he hadn't tried for nearly a year now to find him at all.  In spite of the fact that the pain had nearly killed him, eleven months ago, on what would have been their sixth anniversary together, he'd given up.  Oh, not entirely.  A tiny part of him, that part that had reacted so strongly today when the chart was faxed in, still retained some hope.  But he'd recognized the need to get on with his life; to try and find a reason for living and maybe find love again.

And now, when he was finally starting to put the pieces all back together again, the man he loved more than anything--the man he *still* loved, if he was honest about it--was back. Well, not *back*, but at least he knew where he was. And maybe...just maybe...whatever was going on with Jim and his hyperactive senses would be enough to get the soldier, no, the *cop*, into his world.  And maybe he'd be able to figure things out from there.

Blair put the car into drive and headed out of the parking lot, his head spinning so wildly he didn't notice anything going on around him. All he could see were the light-blue eyes that had haunted his dreams for years.

******************************

Rainier University

//I can't believe I'm doing this,// Ellison told himself for the dozenth time, standing outside the door labeled first, Artifact Storage 3, and second, Blair Sandburg.  He stared down at the small card in his hand, his mind transfixed for a moment on the letters there.  That little niggling voice in the back of his head was practically screaming at him right now, but he didn't understand what it was saying.  The cacophony coming from inside the room made him wince and have to fight against the urge to turn around and leave.  //What am I *doing* here? How is this related in any way to my senses going off the map?// And *who* was the cute, geeky little guy who had showed up yesterday, urging this card on him?

He swallowed, knocked, then knocked again. No one answered, but then, he wasn't surprised. The noise that he heard coming from the other side of the door was probably drowning out any other kind of sound.  He pushed the door open, steeling himself for the blast of sound pollution that hit him.

Sonofabitch. It was the same cute, geeky little shit from the hospital yesterday. //I knew he wasn't a doctor. No way.//  The kid was sitting in a chair in front of some hellatious stereo speakers, boogying and moving in place.  He waited for a minute until this strange person turned around and saw him, then took a cautious step forward into the small room.

Blair's heart nearly dropped when he saw Ellison standing there in the doorway to his office. He swallowed hard, then grinned and said the first inane thing that came to mind.  "Ooh, hey!... Notice how the war chant of the Yamo-Mamo headhunters finds its echoes in the cellars of Seattle."  He eyed Jim, then said, "But I'm sure your dad used to say that stuff to you all the time about the Stones--'hey, turn that jungle music *down*!'"

Ellison grimaced.  This was going to be a total fucking waste of time. He could tell right now.  "Yeah, he did. So do I. Do you mind?"

"No, no."  He reached for the controls of the stereo, his hand shaking a little bit.

The volume of the music dropped, then died altogether and Jim was able to breathe a little easier.  He studied the younger man for a moment, naked curiosity on his face, then stepped closer. "Why're you in my face?"

Blair blinked, staring at the eyes that had once stared into his with love, desire, affection--sadness when they had to separate. Now they glinted like blue ice.  "Oh, hey, look.  I'm really sorry about all that Shakespeare stuff at the hospital, but I just had to find some way to get you into my area here,  so we could talk."  //And so I could see if there was *any* recognition. Anything.//

  

  1. 'So young, baby. You're *so* young.'   The voice was his...but who had he been talking to? He tuned back into the conversation. "So talk."
  



"Okay, all right. Here--please."  The younger man moved some books and files from the only other chair in the small room, muttering, "get you a seat here...Um, have a seat man."  He stood in front of Jim then, staring at him, wondering how to do this. Work on a buddy-buddy angle? Academic? Man-to-man? He shuddered inwardly.  "You see, ah, there's this nurse that I've been...y'know..." the small, slender hands rolled and gestured, and Blair smiled suggestively, then stopped when the ice-blue eyes got colder, looking at him. "...tutoring, at the med center, and ah, she saw your chart and she faxed it over to me and when I read the thing it was like *BANG!*, Holy Grail time!"

Ellison stared at this kid, wondering when he'd been dropped into the Twilight Zone.  "You're losin' me, Chief."

Sandburg looked uncertain for a moment, then nodded.  "Okay, um, my name is Blair Sandburg-" he paused, hoping for a reaction and wasn't really surprised when he didn't get one, other than Jim looking away from him, "--and I'm working on my doctorate in anthropology.  And you just may be the living embodiment of my field of study.  If I'm correct, Detective Ellison, you're a behavioral throw-back to a pre-civilized breed of man!"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth he wished he could call them back. That was stupid. That was *beyond* stupid.  He could see it from the way the bigger man tensed in the chair he was still--miraculously--sitting in.  When he spoke, the detective's voice made the ice in his eyes seem warm.

Blair shrank back.  *His* Jim was in there somewhere, but he couldn't see him through this very lethal exterior.  He toned his voice down, soothing,  "Well, maybe I was a little out of line with that caveman comment, but, I mean--"  Strong hands grabbed him and shoved him up against the wall just behind him, a snarling visage blocked all other sights from his vision.  When Ellison spoke again, his voice was a icy, biting growl that sent chills up and down Blair's spine.

He was so pissed he could barely see straight. Where the fuck did this kid get off? "Listen, you neo-hippy-witchdoctor-punk!"  He spat the words into the younger man's face, watching the various expressions passing over the beautiful face.  //Beautiful face?!// He mentally shook himself and leaned in closer, punctuating each snarled whisper with a vicious shake. "I could slap you off right now with larceny and false impersonation, and you're heading real quick into harassing a cop." He paused to get a firmer grip on the kid and pushed back a little harder.  "And what's more, your behavior is giving me probable cause to shake this place top to bottom for narcotics."

Blair's eyes went wide. "Whoa, hey, Joe Friday! Relax, okay?"  He took a deep breath, then surprised both of them by snarling a little, shoving his finger into the big cop's face.  "Look, you mess with me, man, and you are *never* gonna figure out what's up with you."  He shifted his shoulders, not surprised that Jim had relaxed his death grip on him and lowered him back to the floor.  Another deep breath to push down the pain that was coming with the next words; looking into the hard, stern face helped because he couldn't remember Jim ever looking at him like this.  "Now, I know about your time spent in Peru, and it has *got* to be connected with what's happening now."  Jesus, his heart was breaking all over again.  He inhaled deeply.

Jim looked at him, pain etched on his own face. He'd spent the last six years trying to remember that time...trying to remember what it was that he'd lost down there. Something about this man in front of him was stirring those memories; why he couldn't have said, but it was disturbing him on many levels.  He turned his eyes back to this Sandburg character, wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt. Once the kid had dropped the flower-child front, he could sense interest and empathy there.

"Now, let me show you something here."  Blair watched, knowing when he had Jim's attention again, then moving away, certain that the older man would follow him.  He pulled the journal off his table, handling it reverently.  "This is a monograph by Sir Richard Burton--the explorer, not the actor." He opened the book to the picture that had fascinated him for years now and turned it so Jim could see it.  "It's over a hundred years old.  Anyway, the idea goes like this: In all tribal cultures, every village had what Burton named a sentinel." //Yes, Jim--a tribal guardian, like you were!// Blair couldn't stop the thought as he watched Jim's eyes darken a little bit.  "Now that was someone who would patrol the borders--"

"You mean a, a scout."  Ellison frowned, wondering where this was all going.

Sandburg shook his head. "No, no, no, more like a watchman.  You see this Sentinel would watch for approaching enemies, changes in the weather, ah, movement of game.  Tribe survival depended on him."

  

  1. "What's this got to do with me?"
  



"A Sentinel is chosen because of a genetic advantage--a sensory awareness that can be developed beyond normal humans.  And now these senses are honed by solitary time spent in the wild."  Blair watched the older man closely, looking for a spark in his eyes, something, *anything* there.  //C'mon, Jim...make the connection...//  Nothing.  "And at first Burton's monograph was disputed and now it's basically forgotten, I mean there are certain manifestations today of maybe one or two hyperactive senses like taste and smell, ah, people who work for coffee, perfume companies, oh, and in the Vietnam, the Army long-range recon units--"

"Who had to change their diets to fish and rice because a Cong scout could smell a Westerner by his waste."  Jim finished the thought for the kid because *this* at least was familiar territory.  He almost smiled at the incredible exuberance of the younger guy; the energy and heat radiating off of this smaller, compact body was nearly overwhelming.

"Right, right, exactly!"  Blair turned to a bookshelf and gestured. "Now, I've got hundreds and hundreds of documented cases over here of one or two hyperactive senses, but not one single subject with all five.  You could be the real thing." 

Jim shook his head, dismayed.  So many memories, so close and just out range, still.  "The truth is, I don't remember much of anything about the jungle."

Blair felt his heart lurch.  Didn't remember much? Was that it? Had Jim repressed all that time because of trauma...repressed his memories of them, as well? Saying goodbye had qualified as traumatic in *his* book, and he didn't have any of the rest of that shit to deal with, as well.  He reached out tentatively.  "A year and a half spent in the bush, the sole survivor of your unit... I mean, I'm no psychiatrist, but that sounds pretty damn traumatic to me. And trauma tends to get repressed."

The older man looked skeptical.  "Ah, let's say that I...I buy this. Why is it coming back now?"

Earnest blue eyes met his.  "I don't know. But you *need* someone who understands your condition."

"And what's the payoff?"

//Time spent with you...maybe you'll remember you loved me once. Or fall in love with me again. God, Jim...I've missed you...//  "My doctorate. I want to write about you." Blair raised his arms, put his hands on Jim's biceps.  "You're my thesis!"

Ellison stared at him for a heartbeat, then shook his hands off.  "I've had enough." Who did this kid think he was kidding? *Write* about him? Document him so the world could see how out of control he was? Not a chance.  He turned and headed out the door.

//God, no, don't *leave*! Not like this!// Blair felt the pain ripping through him again as he watched Jim walking through his door.  "Well, just think about it, okay!"  //Please...please think about it.  Don't leave me a second time, Jim...//  He stood there for a second then remembered something else. He stuck his head out the door, "Oh, hey, wait! There's something I need to warn you about!"

Too late. Jim was gone.  Blair hesitated just a minute before pulling the door closed behind him and heading after the bigger man.

*******************************

Ellison's Loft

"Thanks, man."  Blair took the beer Jim was handing toward him and grinned. "Man, that was something, today." He eyed the bigger man. "I can't believe Serris was holding you responsible for her dad's death. You okay?"

Jim shook his head. "I don't know. I'm still...taking it all in, I guess."  He watched the smaller man take a drink and look around him.  Something about this guy stirred protective instincts in him.  //I called him my partner today. I haven't wanted a partner since Jack died.  Haven't wanted anybody for anything in a long time. He saved my life today. He was pretty incredible during the whole bus thing...and he has the most gorgeous eyes I've ever seen.//

Ellison took a drink of his own beer and continued to watch Sandburg, unobtrusively, like he was scoping out a suspect.  What made this kid think he could handle doing a ride-along? What made him want to? The sentinel thing still sounded wild to him; he grimaced trying to figure out how he was going to sell this to Simon--he just didn't see it as something he could easily explain to his long-time friend and superior.  Lost in thought, he didn't notice that Blair was asking him a question until it had been repeated twice.

"Sorry, Chief. Guess I was lost in thought there."

Blair smiled wryly. "I noticed, man."

"Sorry, Sandburg. What'd you say?"  He looked at the younger man, noticing for the first time the pallor and dark shadows under the blazing blue eyes.  In spite of the grin, Sandburg looked about done in.

"Just wondering…did you mean it, about the partner thing? I mean, I know--"

"Hey, serious as a heart attack, Chief."  What *was* it about this kid? He seemed so familiar sometimes. "Changing your mind?"  He couldn't stop the yawn that split his face.

//Not in a million years, Jim, if that's how long it takes to get you to remember me. I plan on filling your days so full of thoughts of me you won't be able to help but remember. I love you! I don't know you any more, but I love you.  And I'll find a way to trigger your memories. I swear I will.// "No, not changing my mind. I was dead-on serious about the thesis, man." He watched Jim yawn again and felt his own body sagging with exhaustion. His hand still stung, too, from where he'd decked Serris.  "I'm gonna head out before I outstay my welcome."  Blair stood, stretching, and felt Jim's eyes on him.  //Go ahead and look, man. Whatever it takes.//

Jim looked at him, felt a strange warmth unfurling in the pit of his stomach.  He held out his hand.  "Thanks a lot for your help today, Sandburg. I appreciate it."

The younger man looked at him for a second, then shook the offered hand. "No problem, Jim. See you tomorrow at nine? So we can start talking tests and shit?"

"Sure, Sandburg. Nine a.m.. Your office, right?"  He held on to the warm hand for just a fraction of a second longer than necessary and Blair felt his pulse quicken.

"Right."  Oh, shit.  He hoped his voice didn't *really* sound that breathless. "Okay, man, I'm outta here. Sleep well."

"You too, Chief."  Jim opened the door for his strange guest and felt a small twinge of --what? Panic?--bleed through him at the sight of Blair's back retreating from him.  //What the fuck is up here? It's not like I'm not gonna see the guy again. In less than 12 hours, actually.  Buck up, Ellison, and get a grip!//

*******************************

May, 1996

Excerpt from Blair's Journal:

_Jim and I have been 'partners' for just under a month now.  I'm getting to know the man I didn't get to know before, simply because there wasn't time.   He's everything I always figured he'd be: kind, caring, compassionate. Hard as nails when he has to be.  Sexy. The man must have *invented* sex appeal, because he all but oozes it.  He's a good cop. I mean, I don't know a lot about *being* a cop, but he seems to care about more than just bustin' heads. He gets the bad guys, but he cares about the good guys who might get hurt, too._

_I still can't believe that the day he took me in to meet Simon Banks and get my credentials was the day the loony militia decided to take over the police department. I have *got* to learn to keep my mouth shut, man. I talked the leader, Kincaid into believing I was a police lieutenant (man, are some of these guys easy to fool, or *what*?? Naomi would die if she heard that one.); next thing I know, I'm a hostage on a helicopter._

_Jim jumped on. Shit, he's incredible. And to watch him in action…!  I've been dropping hints all over the place, when I can do it subtly. I just can't see myself walking up to him and saying, so, big guy--remember that lovely week in the Peruvian jungle about seven years ago? Want to repeat it? Want to throw me down and fuck my brains out? Yeah, right. NOT!  Of course, I dream about those two nights constantly. I had them out of my head for a long time…but now…shit, I can't think of anything else. I don't dream about anything else--unless it's his arms around me, holding me, telling me how much he loves me._

_So, I don't know what to do.  I love him. God help me, but I do. But how do I *tell* him? I mean, this is not just an 'I have a crush on the guy' kind of thing. *We* were in love, seven years ago. We had a bonding ceremony. Mates for life.  It's funny, but I can still hear him telling me what his shaman friend said: what was easily claimed may prove difficult to hold on to. No shit, man!_

He's coming over here tonight; supposed to be finding a video camera for me to use. I have to get this paper done, I have to give Larry 'back' pretty soon. Maybe I'll try dropping broader hints. I can't believe that he doesn't have some memories of that whole time down there. There must be memories of us, buried there, somewhere.  I just have to figure out how to tap into them.

Blair sighed and saved the file to disk, wondering when life would get a little easier. All the time he spent with Jim, and it was still as painful as hell. //Maybe I'm being too greedy here. I've got nearly all his undivided attention; why the fuck can't I be happy with what I have, and not worry about the rest of it?//  The answer to that was painfully simple: because having once had his love, settling for less wasn't an option.  //I want the whole package: friendship, love, romance, sex.  I want *all* of James Ellison--the way I had it once. It's not fucking fair that life robbed us once by forcing us apart; it had to do it a second time by taking his memories away.//

He thought about all the changes in their lives, led separately. Jim had married Carolyn, only to have that relationship over nearly before it started. He himself had had what felt like an endless parade of short-term relationships; he'd started dating again about three years ago, once in a while going out when someone seemed interested. He hadn't been with another man since Jim--hadn't found any who interested him, and at least with women he could get away from the memories of his mate a little easier. Another man would only have failed by comparison.  Soldier to cop; student to teacher.  Both of them trying to put lives together, apart, with one of them unaware of the other. And the entire time, Jim had been right here, under his nose.

In Cascade, for nearly all of the last seven years. Life was more than cruel, sometimes. On occasion, it was incomprehensible.  He shook his head and put his disks away and went to cue up the VCR. He and Larry had some television to watch.

***************************

//I will kill the kid if anything happens to this camera. Carolyn will kill *me* if anything happens to it, so fair's fair.//  The thought in the back of his mind as Jim drove through the night was why was he spending his free evenings with this guy who was supposed to be studying him. 

It wasn't just an evening here, an evening there.  Anymore, they spent a lot of their free time together. After the scut work for the day was over--and he had to admit that Sandburg was pretty good at doing the paperwork he hated so much--they'd usually grab a bite to eat together, or go hang out at the loft for a while. He hadn't been to the kid's place yet, this would be the first time.

//Kinda goofy sometimes, but a nice guy. I could probably fall--No! That would complicate things way too much, way too fast. Maybe one of these days, when he's not still studying me like a lab rat…maybe then.//  Why did the idea send a tendril of heat curling through him? There was something about the younger man that was enough to set his pulse to pounding if and when he let it.  And there'd been quite a few nights lately when the kid had had a starring role in some *seriously* hot dreams of his.  Weirdest thing of it was, they were usually in a jungle, heat and wet all around them, when they were making love.  //Or fucking like crazy,// his mind offered, remembering the dream that had woke him this morning.

He and Sandburg, twined together in an embrace. And holy mother, what an embrace. Jim shuddered, his cock twitching even now, just thinking about it.  Except it wasn't Sandburg. Or was it? The guy in his dream always started out as Blair, but morphed into someone else. Well, not someone else--probably just what his partner would have looked like seven, eight years ago. Pretty much the same, just *young*.  And with that thought came that same odd feeling, almost a light-headedness that threatened to overwhelm him. He shook his head as he pulled into the warehouse parking lot and spotted Sandburg's car. With any luck, he might be able to concentrate enough and focus on something other than his partner's lush mouth tonight.

*******************************

Late June, 1996

//If he uses up all the hot water again this morning, I'm going to kill him.  There will be no other option available. I need to have a hot shower this morning. Of course, cold would benefit me better, but...//  Jim shook off the odd thoughts and took another swallow of coffee, listening idly to the sounds of Blair in the shower.

His guide-turned-partner had become his roommate as well.  He'd known six weeks ago when the warehouse blew and Blair begged a room from him that it wasn't going to be a week. Or even two.  He didn't care if Sandburg ever moved out; in fact, the only moving he could picture him wanting the younger man doing was the horizontal bop, preferably under him, preferably in his bed, upstairs.  He shook his head at the thoughts, but didn't try anymore to banish them, it was a losing battle. Every time he saw the younger man his wayward libido fired up again, and things were to the point now where he needed to either find himself someone else for real, or let Blair know. //Easier said than done,// he mused, listening as the shower was turned off and Blair hummed tunelessly under his breath.  He'd just taken another drink of coffee when the bathroom door opened and Blair strolled out, obviously not expecting his roommate to be leaning against the kitchen counter, since only his lower body was wrapped in a towel.  He'd been very scrupulous about keeping all his body covered when he thought Jim might be around, and the older man was very entertained by the thought of his outgoing partner being modest.

It took exactly five seconds for his eyes to find the scar, and dispel the modesty theory. He raised stunned, surprised eyes to his roommate, and was stunned further when he saw the calm acceptance in those blue depths. His own hand raised and touched the spot where his scar was, beneath his robe.

"I have one--"  his voice was surprisingly hoarse and his eyes were having trouble focusing on anything but the welcome in the blue sea staring at him.

"I know," Blair said quietly, his voice rich and warm with emotion.

"You were there." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

Jim took three steps forward, closing the distance between them. "How...long ago?"

"Seven years, man.  A few months before you were rescued."  Blair reached a tentative hand out to touch Jim's arm.  "Do you remember...anything?"  He met the older man's eyes again and winced a little at the confusion and emotion mirrored there.  A large, shaking hand grasped his, squeezing tight.

"I don't have...I don't remember, Chief, but I can feel things...and I've had dreams..."  He released Blair's hand and raised his to cup the younger man's face. "Is that really you, in my dreams?" he questioned hoarsely. 

"I sure hope so, Jim," Blair rasped, his voice suddenly thick and hoarse, "because you've been in mine for years now."

"I can...I can see us...you...together. In my mind. I don't...I don't really remember it...it's more like watching a movie, but it's there. Oh, god, Blair..." the hoarse voice became a whisper.  "I can *see* us...you're so young in my dreams... *So* young."

"I've aged a lifetime since then, Jim. It's been so long...I've loved you for so long."

"Did you ever give up hope?"

Warm, shaky fingers were stroking his face, touching the lines and planes there.  One thumb smoothed gently over his lips and Blair found himself nearly unable to speak he was so breathless.  "Not totally. I couldn't do that. But it...I kept it buried deep, Jim.  It hurt so bad...leaving you...seeing you back and not hearing anything..."

The older man nodded.  "I'm sure it did." He smoothed his thumb repeatedly over the lush lips, feeling all the different textures beneath the sensitive pad.  "I can't imagine what it must have been like for you.  I...did we have long? Before...before we were separated?"

Blair shook his head, mesmerized by the touch against his lips.  "Not quite a week as...as friends," he began hoarsely.  "Two nights and a day as lovers."

Jim's hand shook hard and he dropped it to the younger man's chest, traced one finger over the small black scar there. Lovers. It stirred such a depth of emotion within him. He could see the picture in his mind...saw himself making the mark, smoothing the wood ash salve over the small wound.  He found himself speaking before he realized what he was saying:

"The joining is complete, my mark to your mark, set into your flesh where none shall dispute it.  You belong to me and my soul is yours.  I am the lock which holds us, you are the key that binds us.  Together we are one; separate we are none.  The ash sets the wound; when it has healed you will bear a mark that shall never wear off, never fade, never disappear.  You will be mine as long as that mark persists."

A soft sob pulled him from the strange sort of trance he was in and Jim refocused to see a single tear sliding down Blair's cheek.  He tilted the younger man's head back and lowered his own head to gently lick the salt-drop from the beautiful face. 

"Oh, Jim--"  The gentle touch of lips and tongue against his cheek nearly unhinged him and he shuddered, his knees giving out.

Jim followed him to the floor, his arms moving around the smaller man, holding him close. "I knew I was missing something," he whispered, cradling Blair against him, his fingers sliding through silky curls.  "I just didn't know what it was. God, it drove me nearly insane...knowing I was missing memories, time, but unable to remember what."

Blair's hands stroked over the broad chest, pushing the fabric aside, baring Jim's mark to his eyes.  He traced his fingers over the scar, caressing gently as he went.  His mind was having trouble connecting everything and this was good grounding. Jim's body was hard and warm beneath his fingers, his heart thumping hard against the Blair's hand.  "You remember now, don't you."  It was whisper-soft, but he knew Jim would hear him.

"I remember some. I don't know if I'll ever remember all of it...but I...yeah."  He cupped Blair's face and turned it towards his, staring intently into the dark blue eyes. "I've wanted you for weeks now, as it is...felt myself beginning to fall in love with you." The light coming through the half-open shades caught in Blair's hair, illuminating the auburn highlights there, casting strange and beautiful shadows throughout.  He continued in a hoarse whisper, "But I was already in love with you, wasn't I? Just feeling what was already there, trying to break through." His voice was unsteady as he nuzzled gently at lips that were also trembling.  "I love you, Blair.  I'm so sorry about the--the time lost."

Blair didn't bother to respond verbally. He opened his mouth and felt as much as heard Jim's soft moan of response as the older man followed suit, claiming his mouth in a gentle, loving kiss.

Their tongues tangled together as they explored the other's mouth, relearning familiar territory, tasting mingled pain and love and joy.  Blair broke the kiss just long enough to whisper "I love you" against Jim's lips, then dove back into the rich, warm haven of his lover's mouth.

  

  1. //All that time and you don't even remember it fully; you can barely comprehend the gift you've been given back.//  He bit harder at Blair's neck, wanting to taste him, to taste what he'd been missing.
  



"Bed, Jim," Blair moaned softly.  "Let's be comfortable when we love each other."

Ellison drew back to smile at the younger man, his eyes warm and loving as they took in the view of a flushed Blair, lying across his lap. He tipped him out gently, helping him stand, then climbed to his own feet and held out a hand.  "Come upstairs with me?" he offered in rich, low voice.  Blair nodded and put his hand in Jim's, twining their fingers.

"I think I'm really glad this is Saturday," Sandburg smiled, looking at his lover.  "I'd hate to have to explain to Simon why we were late into work."

Jim laughed, a little of the tension of the moment easing. "Me, too," he chuckled, pulling the smaller man up the stairs.  A fire was beginning to burn in his belly--the fire of anticipation, sparked by memories and dreams, and a kiss.

At the top of the stairs, Blair hesitated.  "I want you to know...I haven't been with another man since the last time I was with you."  He watched Jim's eyes closely.  "I've dated, women only, but even with the women, I didn't often do much more than date, or make out. It just didn't feel right."

Jim nodded. "Every relationship I've tried to have in the last seven years hasn't worked for one reason or another. I've been with a couple of guys, but that was while I worked Vice, and it wasn't really a 'want to' thing...it was whatever was going down at the moment.  And you know about Carolyn, of course."

//Oh yeah, I know about her. You wouldn't believe the attitude she pulls on me when you're not around to see it.// He snorted lightly. //Guess she sees me as competition. Little does she know, *I* had you first.  And it's *me* you're coming back to.//  "Yeah, I know about Carolyn."  He raised his eyes to Jim's; smoky-blue met quicksilver blue, combining love and desire, hunger and need, the pain of separation and the thrill of rediscovery.  His hands moved to the towel still wrapped around his waist.  "I love you," he breathed, then let the towel fall.

Jim sucked his breath in at the beauty of the man in front of him.  Where before an adolescent verging on manhood had stood before him, here was the final product.  Still not tall, but perfectly proportioned.  Broad torso tapering to a trim waist and hips, flowing into legs that were lean, and long for his height.  The silky mat of hair that had covered that delicious body before was thicker now; a dense, silken forest to run his fingers through.  Dusky rose-brown nipples peeked out shyly from the dark curls; a gleam of gold from one caught his eye and produced a smile.  Above it was the black scar, double-twined lines guarded by a circle, which proclaimed Blair as his mate.  His eyes were drawn down the front of the younger man, following the line of hair that tapered in, then flared and thickened to become dark, dense pubic curls. Nestled within was a plump, rosy cock; just now beginning to stir a little, to lengthen and thicken.  Below that hung two full, heavy balls, starting now to draw upward toward Blair's body.

"You're absolutely gorgeous," he breathed, looking at the treasure standing in front of him.

Blair flushed, staring at the heat that was beginning to shine at him from Jim's eyes.  "Let me see you," he whispered. "All of you."  Jim nodded and untied his robe, stood still when the younger man pushed it from his shoulders to let it fall to the floor.

Sandburg let his eyes roam hungrily over the tall, strong figure standing proudly before him.  Over six feet tall, heavily muscled, but lean and sinewy at the same time.  A broad chest with light rose-colored nipples already peaked from anticipation that begged for Blair's tongue.  There above the left nipple was the black scar similar to Blair's. There were other scars here and there as well; scars that hadn't been there before, that spoke of the danger in the profession Jim had chosen.  No mat of hair on this chest, just a small stripe leading from the sexy navel toward the light-brown thatch of pubic curls.  The long cock was beginning to thicken and fill as Blair stared at it, entranced by the delicate rosy flush and light blue veins tracing along it.  Large balls hung below, plump and full, also blushed with arousal.

The younger man's voice was husky with his own arousal. "*I'm* beautiful? Man, have you *looked* in a mirror lately?  You're like a god, standing here before me. Jesus, man."  He licked lips gone suddenly dry and shivered.

"I want you, Chief." The voice was low, and hoarse, and there was a tremulous quality to it, along with a deep need and hunger burning there.  Jim reached out and pulled Blair to him, nuzzling into the curls that were calling to him.  He breathed in deeply, taking in lungfuls of the exotic bouquet of his guide. His mate.

"Oh, yes." A long shiver ran down the smaller frame and Blair pressed himself closer to his lover.  "I want you, too." He rubbed his body against Jim's and felt an answering shudder vibrate against him.  A low growl rose up from above him and he raised his eyes to see Jim's, darkening with hunger and a deeper, more primal need.  "That's it, lover.  Claim me.  I'm yours, Jim. Take what belongs to you."

The hoarse, breathless words pushed Jim a little further toward that primal side of himself that he thought he'd left behind. He felt a strange, surging hunger rising up inside him as he watched Blair tip his head backward, exposing his throat and neck.  The hunger surged even higher when his lover whispered, "you marked me once before, Jim. Do it again. Let's show the world, lover."

A growl reverberated around them, joined by a gasp that was half-pain, half-pleasure when Jim sank his teeth into the pale flesh of Blair's throat.  Then a warm tongue was licking at the bruise left there and the gasp turned to a moan and a shiver as the younger man responded to the warm wet caresses.

Jim shifted them backward until he'd pushed Blair up against the bed, then down gently to sprawl there, legs and arms open and inviting, the heat in his eyes welcoming.  He bent down and straddled over the younger man, resting on his hands and knees, their bodies not touching yet.  He traveled a slow circuit around the beautiful face, tasting each inch of flesh with open mouth, lips and tongue, learning his lover anew.  Soft brushes of his lips across softer lips, then down to test the whiskers, comparing texture.  Up across the skin of Blair's cheeks, then over his eyes, letting his tongue drag across eyelashes, shivering at the ticklish sensation.  Down to one ear to nibble on the rim before running his tongue all along the outside, following the curve inward. He lowered his body just enough to brush his hard cock against Blair's, the sensation of touching again that hot, silky, taut flesh sending jolts through him that rocked him to his core.

Blair reached up to run his hands along the bulging biceps and to press against pecs and abs made hard from a lot of time working out. He feathered his fingers lightly over tight nipples, hearing Jim's groans as the tender peaks were caressed. His own nipples were hard and aching, and touching his lover's made them hurt more, wanting to be touched, to be suckled.  He pinched lightly at the taut flesh, then flicked one finger gently against the right one. His big lover's body jerked and bucked like he'd been shot.

"God, again," the hoarse voice moaned into his ear. Blair obliged, and smiled when Jim jerked again.

"Feel good, lover?"

"Yesssss."  Jim shuddered, then lowered his body a little more, rubbing harder, moving his cock against the hard throbbing column pressing into him.  They were both leaking now; hot juices smoothing down hotter flesh, easing the way for a slow, gliding motion.  "You feel good," he moaned, pressing his lips to Blair's neck in a hard, sucking kiss.

"Mmmm…"  Sandburg tilted his head, then groaned when teeth joined the mix, biting into him again.  "If this is a dream, I don't want to wake up. Not now, not ever."  He raised his head to nip at Jim's shoulder, biting a little harder when his lover snarled low, baring his teeth. 

"No dream, baby. Dreams don't taste or smell or feel this good." Jim's words were barely more than growls now, and he bit into the tender flesh of the younger man again as his cock pressed hard into Blair's stomach, pulsing madly.  His lover's cock throbbed back against his stomach, leaving a trail of wet when it moved.  His stomach burned from where the liquid touched him and more heat fed into his system. Jim backed  his way down the smaller body, tonguing and licking as he went. Each nipple was paid homage to before he moved on; the one with the ring was tugged and mouthed and bitten, a growl answering each of Sandburg's moans as he writhed and squirmed beneath the bigger man.  "I want to wait, go slow, but I need you so bad baby," he groaned as he bit his way down the lean body. "I need to suck you, taste you, lick you…Jesus, Blair, I need all of you, right now."

"T..take what you want, Jim," Blair panted, his fingers tight on Jim's shoulders. "I want it too--want all of you."

"Gotta go slow for you, Chief…" Jim paused to rim Blair's bellybutton, taking a moment to wiggle his tongue inside the small indent before nipping at the edge of it.  "Been too long." He licked the warm skin just above the pubic curls, then nipped at it, raising a whimper and a gentle thrust upward from his lover.  "You want more, baby? Tell me what you want." He ran his tongue through the dark curls here, reveling in the intensity of the musky scent and flavor of his lover.

"S..suck me, Jim…please…" Blair arched his back, offering his hard, spitting cock up for Jim's perusal. 

The older man swiped his tongue across the tip of it, gathering the liquid there, then ran it over again, more slowly, pausing to probe the small slit there. He fit his lips carefully over the very tip and sucked, pushing the edges of the fissure open with the tip of his tongue, tasting the faintly bitter juices that oozed up in response to his touches.  A soft cry rent the air and Blair pushed up, trying to drive his cock deeper into Jim's hot, wet mouth.

"More! Please!"

Ellison complied eagerly, opening his mouth wider to suck more of the flared crown in, running his tongue along the edge, teasing and tasting.  One hand moved to cup the swollen balls, running gently over the heated flesh of the pouch. The other hand rose to pinch and pull at hot, swollen nipples, teasing them mercilessly. He licked down the length of the straining pole, mouthing around the base, teasing with his tongue, then licked back up and sucked the crown in again, his own neglected organ throbbing hard against the bed, needing more.  Blair pushed up, his hips arching off the bed as he tried to thrust into his lover's mouth. Jim pressed his hips down and pressed his mouth downward, taking more of the thick, throbbing cock into himself.  He gagged a little when it hit the back of his throat, then relaxed and engulfed the last bit, taking Blair deep inside him, swallowing to massage him with his throat muscles.  He let the hard dick slide out of his mouth, then sucked a finger quickly before pulling Blair back into his mouth.  The wet finger he traced along the inside of Blair's shadowy crease, rubbing lightly over the hot little rosette hidden there.

Blair moaned softly and pressed down when he felt the damp digit rubbing against him.  He wanted Jim inside him; wanted to take him fully in and feel the larger man throbbing and moving there.  He whispered, "do it," then pressed against Jim again, shuddering when the tip of the probing finger breached the ring of muscle hiding his opening.

//God, he's tight,// was the first thought through Jim's mind; followed hot on its heels was, //he's gonna feel fucking fantastic wrapped around me//.  Blair's groan as he pushed his finger further inside was hot enough to start a fire, if he didn't already have one burning within him.  He slipped his mouth off Blair's cock, shivering.  "You feel so good, baby," he ground out, moving the finger gently. His lover was hot inside. So hot he wondered if his dick would just incinerate once inside the heated tunnel.  No matter; what a way to go.

Ellison withdrew his finger then, earning him a wailing cry from the smaller man whose body was straining on the bed.  He shushed him with a gentle kiss, then turned to his nightstand to take out a tube of lubricant.  Blair unclenched his eyes to see and raised an eyebrow at him, muttering hoarsely, "Always prepared, Detective?"

*That* earned him a sharp nip just below his right nipple, followed by a teasing grin. "Just for jerking off, Chief. And you've been my favorite fantasy for weeks now."

It was hard to tell looking, because Blair's body was already flushed with arousal, but when the heat radiating off of him increased a notch, Jim would have sworn his partner was blushing.

Then they were past talking. Jim turned his lover onto his stomach and slowly pushed his legs up and apart. Blair moved them further, wanting to give everything to the larger man.  Ellison groaned when the throbbing pink hole was exposed to his hot gaze, and leaned down to run his tongue lovingly over it, lapping gently at the puckered ridges when Blair moaned and shuddered.  Encouraged, he ran the tip of his tongue around and around, laving the small budded hole lavishly, tickling his tongue back and forth.

"P..please, Jim…inside me." The younger man was writhing, wiggling his ass and pushing upward against the tongue that was teasing him.  Jim shuddered at the request and pressed his tongue hard against the tight muscle, wiggling it back and forth, pushing forward.  He heard a soft grunt as Blair pushed against him and the muscle relaxed, the small hole opening for him.  A long, low moan reverberated around them as Blair shuddered from the sensation of Jim's slick tongue against the inside walls of his channel.

The need to be all the way inside his lover surged up hotter than ever then, and Jim groped for the lube as he slid his tongue slowly in and out, then faster and faster.  He slicked up two fingers, and replaced his mouth with them, rubbing lightly at first to coat the pucker, then pressing inward, shaking harder when Blair groaned and pushed back, meeting his slow thrusts.  He scissored and twisted his fingers inside his younger lover, opening Blair slowly and carefully, driven on by the breathy moans and gasps and the backward thrusts he was making.  A third finger and a lavish amount of lube were added a bit later and Jim watched in awe, his body heat increasing, as the small hole stretched, swallowing his fingers, moving around them.

"Now, baby," he muttered hoarsely, removing his fingers and lubing his aching cock. He was so hard, so slick from juices leaked while prepping Blair, that he was half afraid he'd come before he could enter him completely.

Blair pushed himself up onto his knees, keeping his chest lowered. He wiggled his ass enticingly, smiling when he heard Jim's low growl. A sharp bite on his ass drew a growl from him, and then Jim was spreading him open, pushing his hard cock against the small opening, groaning as he entered him.  His own body shook hard, the feeling of being filled, opened, stretched so wonderful that his brain was having trouble comprehending it.  He groaned when Jim stopped moving, then pushed forward again, then stopped.  "Please," he whispered hoarsely, hunger burning hot in him; love surging fiercely alongside it.

"Easy…take it easy, Chief…"  Jim's voice was raw, ragged. He breathed out, waited a minute for  Blair to relax around him, then pushed the rest of the way in, shuddering when his balls slapped gently against the rounded curves of the other man's ass. He waited a minute for the heat around him to relax fractionally, then grasped Blair's hips and began moving within him.  //Good Christ, he's so hot…so tight…so good.  Been so long…too long…need more, need it all, want it all…//  His thoughts were a jumble, focused on the incredible sensations radiating out from his cock.  "So good, baby…so, so good…wanna love you, oh god, always, Blair. Want to always love you, fuck you, be inside you."

"Yes, yes…" Blair pushed back to meet the hard thrusts driving into him, panting fiercely.  "Do it, Jim…give it to me…give me yourself…"  He flexed his muscles, clenching tightly around the hard cock moving inside him. He raised one hand to stroke himself, fisting his cock roughly, matching Jim stroke for stroke.

Soft moans and grunts filled the air as their bodies moved together, joined in love and hunger and need.  Jim thrust himself over and over into the hot, willing body beneath his, his own growls and groans mingling with Blair's quieter, breathier ones as the smaller man's body opened and accepted the loving.  Their bodies asked and answered of each other, and filled the need that both had deep inside.

Beneath Jim, Blair's body shook and shuddered as the smaller man's orgasm began moving through him.  The older man grasped the slender hips tightly and slammed himself over and over, hearing deep within himself the roar of the panther, smelling the heat of the jungle.  He threw back his head and screamed, a raw, primal sound, as Blair clenched tight around him, forcing his release deep into the hot body surrounding him.  He shuddered as he pumped his cream in long, hot bursts, and felt Blair's answering shudder as he released his own cream onto the bed below them.

Blair's knees gave out first and he slumped down on the bed, his body still trembling with faint aftershocks, his cock still twitching restlessly.  Jim landed on top of him, forcing a faint groan from him, but nothing else.  When the larger man shifted to move, Blair stilled him with a soft touch on his hand.

"Stay. You feel good."

"I'll get heavy."

"I'll let you know when that happens. Stay, please."

Jim kissed his shoulder, then the nape of his neck in answer, licking the sweaty skin gently, tasting the salt flavor there.

They lay joined for several minutes before Blair shifted uncomfortably.  "It's time, Jim." He grinned ruefully into the blanket. "I'd love to have you lay there forever; my lungs think breathing is important, too, though."

Ellison smiled as he shifted, then warned, "It might hurt when I pull out."

Blair nodded. "I know. Go ahead--I'm ready."

Afterward they snuggled together under the blankets, kissing and caressing gently, reacquainting themselves with each other.  Sated and happy, they fell asleep in a pool of sunshine, arms wrapped around each other.

******************************

Blair was sitting next to him, cross-legged, chin in hand, watching him when Jim woke.  He smiled sleepily at the younger man, his brain still fuzzy from his nap and the loving that preceded it.

"Hey.  How long was I asleep? How long were you?"

Blair smiled and leaned forward to kiss him. "I slept for an hour or so; you've slept for about three." The smile broadened to a grin. "Guess that shows which one of us wears out easier, huh."

"Hey--I was the one doing the *hard* part--" Jim's own grin answered Blair's gentle teasing, "so I  think I'm entitled to a nap afterward."

The grin softened to a loving smile and Blair reached out to stroke his finger over day-old whiskers.  "I fell in love with you all over again, James Ellison.  I can't tell you what it means to me to have found you…to have you again.  I can't tell you how bad I missed you, for so long."

The bigger man reached a hand out and took Blair's, twined their fingers. "If there was some way to go back and undo things, Blair, I'd walk out of the jungle with you, this time. I wouldn't have put these," tracing smudges beneath Blair's eyes, "or the shadows *in* your eyes, there for any reason."

"I know." Blair's voice was soft, gentle. He shifted so that he was lying next to Jim, staring at him.  "I know that you didn't blow me off, Jim.  I trust you on that. I didn't know you for very long, before, but the strength of the love I felt between us--that I feel between us, now--is enough for me. I loved you then, I love you now. I'm just glad for a second chance." He smiled at Ellison. "I guess your shaman friend was right, huh."

Jim cocked an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?"

"You said that he told you that gifts from the gods are not easy things, and something claimed easily might not be held so easily. Or something to that effect."

"So this whole separation was like a trial? To see if we were worthy?"

Blair pursed his lips. "Could be. I'm not saying I believe, or disbelieve…but stranger things have happened, man.  Strong, lasting, abiding love is hard to come by, Jim. Maybe sometimes people need to be reminded of that. I hate the thought that we were being tested by anyone…but if that was the case, then  I think we passed the test. What do you think?"

Jim smiled into his lover's eyes. "I think you could be right," he murmured in a low voice.  "But I hope like hell we're done with the testing, because we've got some *serious* time to make up for."  He rolled himself, pulling the younger man on top of him, then grinned and brushed a kiss across lush, kiss-swollen lips.  "And it's your turn to do the hard work now, baby."

A low, sexy chuckle greeted his ears, followed by a breathy whisper as warm lips descended on his, "Now *that* test I think I can handle."

~finis~

 

 


End file.
